The Ties that Bind: Book One - Genesis
by MadMadameEm
Summary: Life in Shattrath after the closing of the Dark Portal? Hard. Being at the mercy of the Burning Legion? Harder. Helping to raise the crossbreed child of your dead lover she had with another man while probably being the one and only troll in all of Outland? May the Light and Loa help us all...
1. Chapter 1: In the Beginning

Disclaimer: I do not own anything World of Warcraft or anything by Blizzard. If I did… well, I'd be a very happy woman.

Chapter One: In the Beginning…

* * *

He hated Shattrath. He really did.

The weather was usually dismal and predictable: humid, sticky air and an overcast sky. He couldn't leave permanently, the presence of the Burning Legion just outside the crumbling walls made it too dangerous. He didn't know anyone very well, and those he did were not exactly what he would consider friends. Time had become irrelevant, and the days so mundane that they had long ago begun to bleed into one another. He didn't remember how long he'd been there or when he'd arrived. Even the memory of **how** he'd accidentally fallen into freaking Outland was sketchy.

To make up for his fading past, he'd occasionally try to do something with himself and briefly enter whatever social circles were available. The memories and reputation he'd made for himself in the city weren't exactly pleasant ones.

He drank: enough to where some would call it 'excessive'. He considered it enough to help maintain whatever amount of sanity he had left. He brawled: sometimes as a healthy challenge or bet, others as a release of some unknown rage, and occasionally joining in on bar fights to be one with the crowd. He…enjoyed the company of women. (At least, he did, until Vana'jia up and left him.)

He was also the only troll…well technically. She had been half-troll, but that didn't really count. And after years of staring into faces that were nowhere near his own, the feeling of isolation was beginning to settle in and the high crumbling walls of the city seemed to be closing in on him.

He had become moody, antisocial, self-centered, and cynical; ultimately, he had become nothing like the troll he was once upon a time or at least remembered to be. And he was beginning to feel disgusted with himself…

Zebodah hated Shattrath.

* * *

Riskkaf loved Shattrath. Who wouldn't?

He had been one of the first of the arakkoa to take refuge in the quite large and homey city, seeing it as a much better alternative to what he had left behind. The draenei had been wary at first, and that had made Riskkaf like them even more as it meant they had good sense, but gradually came to be kind and hospitable.

He helped where he could to earn his keep, be it patching up a new batch of refugees or using his magic to create new protective wards, and in turn gained respect among his neighbors and friends. Mial, the sweet and motherly priest who ran an inn of sorts, had been one of his first friends, and always made sure he was never hungry, occasionally visiting him in his own humble abode. He had grown quite fond of her and repaid her kindness by making sure her establishment was always in good repair and had enough supplies.

Riskkaf had even managed to make a comrade out of Zebodah, the usually disagreeable troll who resided just next door to his own cozier roost, by roping him into some odd quest or another outside the walls for arcane materials necessary for his work. Many ambushes, invoking ancestors, cursing, and, once, a very charred Zebodah usually accompanied their adventures. And no matter how many times the taller being swore never to sell his services again, Riskkaf was certain he found some joy in their exploits (even though he would never openly admit).

When he wasn't out on an escapade or doing some designated task, Riskkaf would spend his time in his home nestled among scrolls and books reading or studying new magic. The draenei had much to offer, and he had giddily accepted their knowledge. All sorts of new spells and incantations, charms and transmutations had been opened to him, and the arakkoa had taken a deep breath and jumped right in. Any free moment was consumed in his house with his beak pressed into some new tome.

And that's where he would have been if Mial had not come knocking on his door in the middle of the night, requesting he come over immediately and not saying why. Because it was Mial, and because her expression nearly shrieked 'emergency', he had gone with her. Perhaps there had been some magical mishap that required his assistance? Excellent!

There was always something interesting to do or be found…

Riskkaf loved Shattrath.

* * *

Zebodah had been having one of the most fitful bouts of sleep he'd ever gotten in a long time. And an even rarer dream had been its escort.

He was standing on the beaches of Stranglethorn, and he could remember. Remember home, familiar faces, his Darkspear kin, good food, a warm fire…everything. He stood with his back to the village, looking out over the ocean and watching the sunset, but could hear laughter and voices and drums behind him. The aromas of smoke, incense, and cooking meats wafted in the air.

Even in his sleep, Zebodah could feel the unforgiving twinges of homesickness and loneliness. They ached, more than he cared to confess, but he was determined to savor this dream until the very end.

He stood there for what could have been forever or maybe a few scant seconds, when he felt a hand slowly clamp down on his shoulder and a powerful presence could be felt behind him. Everything else faded quickly to nothing and the dream world melted to shadows.

 _A loa_. _And a Great one at that_.

He didn't have to turn around or even ask to know; he just did. It had been a long time since Zebodah had felt them this close, but the company of a loa was impossible to forget. His devotion to them and their presence had been the greatest force keeping him from slipping completely into some twisted, desperate version of who he once was. They kept him from going mad…

 _But what were they doing here and now?_

Zebodah's curiosity was soon sated when a voice suddenly overcame every one of his senses.

" _Ya bettah wake up, mon…"_ Dambala whispered to him in a low, almost teasing hiss, _"Dere be someone I want ya ta meet…"_

The dream abruptly ended, and he sat up quickly as if someone had slapped him. His forehead smacked into something hard, and Zebodah slightly registered that there was a startled screech and then a thud. As his disorientation faded, and his head and heart began to hurt more, he could almost hear the Loa's chuckling in his ears.

A three-fingered hand reached up to rub the spot that had been hit, and Zebodah squeezed his eyes shut. The night was quiet and peaceful, almost a cruel contrast to the inner turmoil inside the troll. Did his dream really have to end so soon?

Something poked him in the shoulder, and he cracked his eyes open just in time to see Riskkaf timidly jab him again with a talon.

"Zebodah?" His usually raspy tones were further croaked into a whisper, "Are you alright?"

His already narrowed eyes zeroed in on the arakkoa, and his once relaxed features swiftly morphed into a scowl. "What'chu want, Riskkaf?"

There was an offended squawk, "Now there's no need to be rude! Is this how you treat all your visitors? Especially the ones whose heads you decide to gracefully bash with your own?"

"I don' get visitahs. Now get talkin' or get out."

Sharp and intelligent eyes regarded him for a moment before answering, "Mial and I need your help."

"What does dat goody-goody, overbearin' she-priest want now?" He reclined back onto his elbows, gaze never leaving his unexpected houseguest.

"We have a…long-term…well, permanent…situation."

It was voiced as a question, as if the intruding bird didn't really know what to call the problem. Zebodah's brow quirked up; he was interested slightly…but not enough to get up.

"So?"

"Someone's ill –"

"I ain't no priest!" He spat the words out resentfully, as if they tasted rotten, "I don' heal! Why can't Mial be doin' it, or **you**? Ya be smart; either do it ya 'self or be findin' someone else. I canna help ya, so sorry." He dropped roughly onto his sleeping mat, arms folded behind his head, eyes closed, "Now leave me be." Maybe if he fell back asleep now, he could recapture that dream…

Had Zebodah's eyes had still been open they would have seen the brief flash of sadness and sympathy in Riskkaf's eyes: had his friend really become so empty inside that he did not wish to help someone in need in any way? He would have to correct the problem, perhaps another daring trip into Zangarmarsh for some rare plant. But any plans like that would have to wait: this was urgent.

"It isn't really a healer issue," Riskkaf pressed, unwavering in his task, "in fact, we may not need a healer at all. What we need is, well, a troll."

The hut was silent for a full minute, the arakkoa would know, he actually counted. At exactly 61 seconds, the silence was broken when Zebodah sat up slowly and stared at him with skeptical eyes.

"Eh?"

* * *

The night would have been completely dark were it not for the almost overwhelming brightness illuminating from the Terrace of Light in the distance and the occasional lantern or crystal here and there. Zebodah trudged behind Riskkaf, his tiredness setting in with every step. Soon, they reached a rather large building with many windows. It had more lights and ornaments than others, but did not overly stand out in any way.

The pair stopped, and Riskkaf looked over his shoulder at the troll before proceeding to the entrance. He didn't have to make their arrival known; because no sooner had they arrived did a draenei woman come running out to meet them. She was somewhat short for her kind, barely coming up to Zebodah's nose. Her horns curved up delicately, complimenting the loose bun her hair was in. She wore a simple dress, and no fine jewelry except for the necklace with a shimmering circle pendant that seemed to give off its own light.

 _Mial_. The troll had to make a physical effort to keep from sneering. She was an optimistic, caring person who helped those she thought in need.

Which meant that she was always up in his business.

Always trying to tend to his bruises and broken knuckles after fights. Always trying to 'straighten up' his house. Always trying to shove something annoyingly nutritious down his throat.

Once, she'd even tried to give him a damn bath! That had not ended well…

If Mial could sense Zebodah's sour mood, she didn't show it, and instead hurried right over to Riskkaf and took his hands in her own.

"Thank you so much for doing this," she puffed out in a breathless voice. It was obvious the priestess had been frantic. A few strands of hair had fallen out of place and one shoulder of her dress had slipped down, her glowing eyes even appeared to emit panic.

"You know you don't have to thank us," Riskkaf gave her hands a gentle squeeze in his own gnarled ones.

At the mention of 'us', Mial cast a cautious glance at Zebodah. He caught her gaze and smirked, "Evenin' Mial."

She regarded him for a moment more before offering him a small smile, "Thank you, as well, Zebodah. I appreciate this more than you know."

His smirk fell and he huffed, "Don' thank me yet. What ya be wantin' me to do anyhow?"

Mial and Riskkaf exchanged glances, putting the troll immediately on guard. Something strange was going on…

The arakkoa was first to speak, "One of the, err, guests needs looking over."

A guest, huh? Dambala's words rang softly in his ears again: _Dere be someone I want ya ta meet…_

The shaman looked the draenei in the eye, "What kinda guest?"

* * *

Zebodah didn't know what to think.

He hadn't really been thinking much of anything up till now, but now he was at a complete loss.

"What be **dat**?"

Mial glared slightly and squeezed past the Darkspear who had stopped in the doorway, "She's not a 'what', she's a 'who'."

"Dis be a joke, right?" The troll looked back over to Riskkaf, looking for some semblance of humor in his face that would give him away. The stupid bird had a lopsided grin on his face, he did find this amusing but not in the way Zebodah was hoping for.

"This is not a joke," he gestured over to the bed placed next to the wall, "this is our guest."

"Some guest," the shaman snorted and made a point to look anywhere in the room except the small infant that squirmed on the mattress.

The baby was quite small, not even a full week old yet. Her brown skin was pale, hinting more that she had just been born. It would occasionally make a fussing noise and scrunch its tiny nose, as if uncomfortable in some way. But it wasn't the baby's skin or sounds of distress that caught Zebodah's attention.

Her ears were long and pointed, much like his. Very much like his…

Meaning that there was only one person who she could have come from.

"Vana'jia told me she left da babe with friends." Zebodah said this barely above a whisper, but the two others in the room still heard him.

Mial, who had sat down on the bed beside the child, looked up at him in surprise, "Vana'jia? The courtesan?" She looked back down at the infant, "Is that your mother, little one?" Her blue fingers brushed gently over the baby's soft cheeks and a small smile worked its way across Mial's face. _She was precious._

The troll saw her grin and bitterness flashed in his heart, " _Was_ her motha be more like it. Van be dead. Killed on a mission." _A mission she went on for this little…thing._

Mial's smile vanished, replaced by a look of pity, "Oh..."

"So she's an orphan," Riskkaf, who had been silent and observing the situation up till now, finally spoke. "Unless, the father is still alive."

"Don' make no difference," Zebodah leaned casually against the doorframe and crossed his long arms. "Her livin' be against nature: shouldna' even exist."

 _And yet the Loa were already acknowledging her._

The shaman was confused. He had known of Vana'jia's pregnancy before anyone else, before she even told the father. He'd even helped her at a few steps along the way. However, the Darkspear couldn't help but question why such a crossbreed was even allowed to be conceived. It shouldn't have been possible. But conceived she was, and then born without much trouble, and the spirits had been quiet on the whole matter.

But in their silence, Zebodah could feel them watching…waiting curiously to see what would happen.

And then they had spoken, and it had been Dambala first. Of all Loa, it had been him!

What the hell was going on?

His thoughts raged for a moment more before he realized that Mial and Riskkaf were staring at him. He glared at them between narrowed eyes, "What?"

The baby began to fuss again, this time more restlessly. Zebodah's scowl turned toward the child and intensified. Mial could almost feel the animosity radiating from the troll and she bristled. It was so much, and at such an innocent little person. She glared at him and moved to pick up the newborn. Mial had experience with babies, and cradled her gently to her chest; however, the shaman's eyes followed her every movement, harsh eyes never leaving the child.

Riskkaf could have cut the tension in the room with one of his talons. He moved between Zebodah and Mial, as if to act as a physical buffer, and waved a hand in front of the trolls face. His stare broke and he blinked quickly before turning his attention back to the other two adults, realizing they were still staring at him.

"What?" He asked again, this time more impatiently.

"You wouldn't…happen to know who the father is?"

The shaman raised a hairless brow, "Why?" He stood still for a moment before the answer hit him like a rock. Zebodah began choking on air and his eyes widened, taking a full step back. "Ya tink…dat _**I**_ be da fatha?!"

The arakkoa made an amused cawing noise in his throat and tilted his head to the side curiously, "Well, are you?"

"O' course not!" Zebodah began to come back to his senses and was practically screaming, "What? 'Cause I be a troll, ya assume ahm da fatha? Look at her, she don' look a ting like me. I be green, and Vana'jia was blue; dis little-un got brown skin. She even got five fingahs an' toes!"

Riskkaf wasn't flustered by Zebodah's sudden outburst and simply shrugged, "Just curious. From what I remember you two were _close_."

"Now what's **dat** supposed ta mean?"

"Nothing, nothing." He held up his hands as if to play innocent, "Let's put that behind us, shall we? There's a sweet little girl who could use your help right about–."

The troll let out a mirthless laugh. "I ain't helpin'," he deadpanned.

Mial stood abruptly from the bed, cheeks flushing red and hugging the child closer to her breast. She stared at Zebodah in outrage and disbelief, "But, why not?"

"Why should I?"

"She is just a _baby_!"

"She be a _bastard_."

Both Riskkaf and Mial stared at him in shock. Even Zebodah seemed surprised at himself, breaking eye contact and staring at the floor. His expression softened and twisted slightly as a look of pained shame crossed his face. _Had he really gotten so bitter?_

The infant girl began to fuss more and then slowly started to cry because of all the commotion. Mial answered the call immediately and began to soothingly bounce the child and whisper sweet, calming nothings to her. Riskkaf turned his own attention to Zebodah.

"Say what you want," he rasped softly, "but that's still Van's little girl. If you're not going to do this for us, could you do it for her?"

The troll's shame left his face and he gave the arakkoa a withering look, "Don' be tryin' to play on dese heart strings now."

Riskkaf and Zebodah continued to stare at one another as the baby's cries faded, neither willing to be the one to break first. In the end, it was the shaman who lost. He sighed and turned his head to Mial, "Let me see 'er."

The priestess hesitated before finally walking over, regarding the troll distrustfully the whole time. She held the child out for both Zebodah and Riskkaf to see.

The baby's eyes were still tightly closed, and her little face would twitch occasionally. Its ears were indeed pointed, and the skin was still soft and tender, typical of a whelp. Her tiny lips were full, and her nose was small and round, but still slightly pointed. All three were due to the troll blood that ran from her little veins. She also had an impressively full head of bluish-black hair that sat silkily and in all directions atop her skull.

"Ya motha's locks," Zebodah whispered to himself as he reached out a hand to place on her forehead. The other he rested underneath Mial's arms as if to take the baby from her. He then closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, inwardly asking the spirits for guidance.

Riskkaf and Mial just watched him; not entirely knowing what he was doing and still recovering from the surprise of seeing him display such gentle actions. But the moment was fleeting, and just as soon as his hands were on the infant they were gone. Zebodah let out a breathy huff and turned to leave.

"She gonna be fine, just needs a spirit ritual is all," he said, "ta ward off anythin' bad. I can do dat tomorrow. See ya later."

Riskkaf was the first to recover, "Now wait just a moment." He moved right in front of the departing shaman, blocking his path. "You can't leave yet!"

The look the arakkoa got could've melted his face off, "Why not?"

"Why, we still haven't picked out a name. You didn't think we were going to call her "baby" or "it" forever, did you?"

Zebodah shrugged and scratched the back of his neck, "I dunno, mon. I be kinda fond o' 'it'."

Mial looked up from playing with the baby's fingers long enough to glower and Riskkaf let out an indignant squawk. "Now that's not very nice! I'm sure between the three of us, we can pick out a lovely name."

Mial scrunched up her nose, "The _three_ of us?"

The Darkspear rolled his eyes, "We trolls don' just 'pick out' a name, even though she ain't really a troll. Da spirits speak to us and be givin' us our titles."

The draenei woman looked back down at the now sleeping infant in her arms, "Are they telling you anything about her?"

"Dey ain't 'ere now," he responded flatly, "leave a message, and mebbeh dey get back to ya in da mornin'."

"How about Rashida…or Oriana?" Riskkaf prattled on excitedly as if he didn't hear the troll's sarcasm.

Zebodah snorted good-naturedly and smirked, "What good be her name if she canna say it? Or even spell it?"

"Zafirah?"

"Nah."

"Riskkafa!"

"Really, mon?"

"Nadia."

The priestess had not spoken up much till now, and her sudden strong and sure interjection caused both men to look over at her. The expression she had on her face was one of peace and adoration as she looked down at the baby girl in her arms, "Her name is Nadia."

Riskkaf tapped a talon to his chin thoughtfully, "Hmm…good use of the letter 'A', easy to spell, very original and noteworthy…I like it." He lightly and affectionately patted the baby's head, "Welcome to the family, little Nadia!"

Zebodah raised a hairless brow, "What kinda name be 'Nadia'."

"It means 'hope'." She smiled softly when the infant opened her mouth and yawned, "We could use some of that during these times."

"'Hope', huh? Dere be no otha name with a mo'…realistic meanin'?"

"Well, there is one I know that means 'quiet and tranquil', so I suppose –."

"Quiet an' tranquil?" The shaman let out a laugh, this one less harsh than the last, "Dis girly is gonna be anythin' but, I jus' know it!"

Mial's smile turned more crooked and teasing, "For once, I agree with you."

Zebodah sighed and slumped against the wall in defeat, "Nadia it be den…"

The woman smiled and kissed the baby on her forehead, and Riskkaf continued chattering on to her about who he was and all the wonderful things he couldn't wait to show her. While the two happier beings continued to gush over her, the troll watched from a distance, going back to his troubling thoughts from before.

 _Jus' what da Loa be doin'? An' what be I roped into wit' dis Nadia?_

* * *

Hello, all. This is my very first attempt at a Warcraft tale, and I could use all the help I can get. While I've gone over approximate timelines back and forth, I'm still no expert on Warcraft time. It doesn't help that its history has some holes either. That being said, I ask that you are all patient, sometimes just go with it, and point out errors as you see fit.

This particular story begins some years before the events of The Burning Crusade, so I'll do my best to be accurate.

Reviews and the like are appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2: Bonding

Disclaimer: I do not own anything World of Warcraft or anything by Blizzard…unfortunately.

* * *

Chapter Two: Bonding

Whatever questions there were about the tiny baby who had been officially named Nadia went unanswered for Zebodah. He performed the birthing ritual like he said he would, though wasn't sure how effective it would be since he wasn't a trained priest. But eight months went by without the child getting so much as a bad case of hiccups.

Other than the troll gaining a way to effectively keep track of time, he really didn't see the big deal about this little person. However, Riskkaf and Mial had begun to treat each little thing she did as some sort of great achievement. Every new sound, every new action was greeted with smiles and cheering and kisses and hugs. The whole thing was madness…

Nevertheless, he watched her grow and develop curiously, waiting for _something_ interesting to happen. At least, something more interesting than crawling or babbling, but for now he supposed this was as good as it got.

"You know, you could play with her."

Zebodah looked over at the delusional bird as though he suggested they go skipping around Shadowmoon setting off fireworks. He and Riskkaf were currently sitting outside Mial's establishment doing not much of anything, while the draenei came and went doing some chore or greeting a refugee. Nadia crawled around on a blanket in front of them, blowing spit bubbles and fiddling with the toys that had been brought out for her.

"An' why be I doin' dat?"

"Why, to bond of course." He made a grandiose gesture with his hand before turning the page of one of the five books spread out before him.

"What if I don' wanna 'bond'?"

Riskkaf chuckled, "You may not want to, but you will. It's inevitable…I mean look at this face, how can you not fall in love?" He then promptly lifted Nadia from the blanket and held her out to Zebodah, as if he would actually take the child from him. She had just wriggled her way over to the arakkoa and his books, trying to turn one of their pages in imitation. Now, she was squealing and grinning at the troll, reaching out her small, round hands.

"I be good…" A few strands of drool dribbled from the baby's smiling mouth, and the shaman scrunched up his nose, "Eww."

"Come now, the slobbering isn't permanent. Granted, it isn't entirely pleasant, but she's just teething."

Ah, yes. Zebodah had forgotten about the teething. It had started about two months ago, which is why he was around more than before. Whenever Nadia would reach a checkpoint of development, Mial would make a house call or track him down at the tavern with a list full of questions. He wouldn't have minded answering, if she didn't insist he be around to 'observe her', as she so delicately put it. Now, he had literally been dubbed 'co-guardian' by Mial, who further insisted that he and Riskkaf should fill in the role of 'father figure'.

Why the arakkoa couldn't do it himself, Zebodah didn't know, and didn't bother to ask. This gave him something to do with his time besides drinking, fighting, or sleeping. Those things were starting to get old. Except for drinking, that would never get old, but even he could only handle so much booze.

And so, he begrudgingly accepted the role assigned to him. To be perfectly honest, it hadn't been that bad since the kid had been boring for the most part. Babies didn't really do much…or so he thought.

Zebodah watched Riskkaf lower Nadia back to the ground and release her. Apparently she still had her sights on the troll, because she immediately began crawling over to him, looking up at him right in the eye while babbling and squealing nonsense. He could see tiny dots of pearly white in her smile and sighed.

Then she got teeth.

And with her teeth came the drooling and licking and nibbling – ugh, the nibbling! It's like the kid knew what were in her mouth were teeth! And she would test them out on everything: toys, clothing, books, and furniture. Furniture, for Loa's sake!

Nadia was halfway to him by now, leaving a trail of spit behind her, and a dark expression passed over Zebodah's face. At the inward mention of the Loa, he'd reminded himself of an incident from about a week ago. He had been watching the girl with Riskkaf, when the two had been going through some of the Darkspear's things. The arakkoa had originally come over to borrow some parchment, but had quickly gotten distracted by all the effigies and items of troll culture in his home. He'd explained that he'd made them shortly after his arrival to Shattrath; mostly for ritual but truly as a way to keep him grounded to his past and faith. After answering what was probably Riskkaf's hundredth question, Zebodah heard a rather high-pitched squeal sound out from behind him. He looked over his shoulder, then down, and nearly choked on the words he'd been speaking.

Nadia – the crossbred infant who'd been technically introduced by Dambala – had been chewing happily on a fetish he'd made specifically for that Loa. The shaman had taken it away immediately, and the child had cried, but he was too shaken to really notice. There was no damage, just a bit of saliva, however that wasn't what had bothered him then and it certainly wasn't what bothered him now.

It couldn't have been coincidence, it just couldn't. Out of the dozens of fetishes carefully stowed away in a case in his home, she had pulled out that one. The incident had been plaguing his mind ever since it happened. What could an extremely powerful Loa possibly want with Nadia? Nothing out of the ordinary or spirit related had happened yet, so there was no immediate cause for concern. But Zebodah had been keeping a close eye on her just in case.

A slight tug on his pant leg caused the troll to put his thoughts on hold and look down. The child in question looked back up at him with a drooling smile and tugged again on his clothes. He raised a hairless brow in response, wondering what she was doing now. It apparently wasn't the reaction Nadia was hoping for, because she tugged again, harder this time, and reached her other tiny hand up to him.

"She wants to be held," Riskkaf stated without looking up from his tomes. A look of shock and panic crossed over Zebodah's face as he kept staring down at the small baby who wanted to be picked up. Seconds went by, and Nadia began to fuss when her nonverbal request went unfulfilled. The arakkoa glanced up, "She'll start to cry if you don't."

"Um…" Zebodah clenched and unclenched his fists nervously, causing something to click in the back of Riskkaf's mind. The arakkoa sat up suddenly and looked right at the troll. He made a cawing noise and smirked almost mockingly.

"You haven't held her yet, have you?"

The troll scowled at no one in particular as his companion began to cackle. He actually hadn't held her yet in the eight months she'd been alive. Whenever the opportunity came up, he sort of just dodged it, letting her be passed to someone else much more willing or qualified.

However, he didn't enjoy being laughed at and didn't want to give Riskkaf the satisfaction of being right. Zebodah looked back down at the baby, who was now sitting on her bum and reaching up to him with both hands. He then looked back at the arakkoa, who still chuckled and watched the troll pair curiously, before swiftly bending down to pick up Nadia. She shrieked in delight as he held her at eye level and kicked her feet excitedly.

Now that she was closer, the shaman took a better look at her. He was quite young himself, only about 20 years of age, and didn't have much experience with children, so seeing her develop had been a welcome variation to the usual mundane happenings of Shattrath. She had changed much these past many months, as babies tended to do. Her already crazy hair had gotten longer and even wilder, spiraling out in all sorts of curls and waves. Her ears were now an appropriate length for an infant of her size, and her eyes, now wide open with a curious and intelligent glint, were a kaleidoscopic hazel, with all sorts of hues of amber, green, and gold.

"I guess ya ain't too hopeless lookin'," Zebodah mumbled to himself as Nadia reached out as if to touch his face and blew happy spit bubbles between her –. His eyes widened in surprise as he brought the baby's face closer to his own till their noses were practically touching, "When did dese happen?"

"When did what happen?" Mial asked as she walked over carrying a full basket of freshly cleaned and damp laundry. She had been going to hang them to dry when she overheard the troll's question.

"Dese," he responded while shifting his hold on her and pointing a thick finger at the small ivory set of tusks that poked out from behind Nadia's bottom lip.

"About two weeks ago, when you and Riskkaf left for Zangarmarsh." Mial had gone back to her chore and began to hang the wet sheets, losing interest on the topic, "They came in pretty quickly, but she didn't cry much."

Zebodah opened his mouth to retort when Nadia grasped one of his own, much larger tusks with her tiny hands. The feeling of them being touched had become unfamiliar and the sudden contact caused him to freeze. He gaped as he watched her examine them with wide eyes, grasping at them with pudgy little fingers. She would occasionally let out a curious gargle or baby noise of some sort.

Then – quick as lightning – Nadia let out a squeal and bit it.

He reacted immediately and let out an unkind snarl, eyes narrowing into a glare: that was _not_ what tusks were for. The infant let go instantly, and looked into his eyes with a confused expression. Nadia sniffled and her lower lip began to quiver: what had she done wrong?

Zebodah sighed despite himself. A voice in the back of his head began to scold him: she had just been trying to figure her new tusks out. From what he could remember from his younger years, this is something troll babes did. Once they began tusking, they would bite everything and butt them against anything they could get their grubby hands on. The shaman also remembered how many of the older trolls would help them figure out their tusks, usually by rubbing their own against the child's smaller ones while humming or growling in approval.

He looked back at the baby in his hands, who had fresh tears forming in her eyes as she sat in his lap. Mostly to keep her from crying (and partially because he was the only troll and therefore his duty) he gently brought her up to his face again with one hand supporting her under her bum and the other on her back and, with careful maneuvering of his tusks, began to rub them against hers.

Nadia's whimpers stopped and her mouth hung open for a split second before her tiny, full lips broke into a toothy grin, and she let out a pleased shriek. She obviously enjoyed the feeling, and pressed her face closer to his tusk as Zebodah continued the soothing back and forth motion.

The vibrations caused by the friction sent a shiver to go down his spine and caused his stomach to quiver nostalgically. This action brought reminisces for Zebodah of his own youth, when he was just a few years old and testing out his own tusks. He felt his eyes close in innocent pleasure as he let his barriers fall and simply enjoyed this moment. It didn't last for long, however…

"Aww, look Mial, they're bonding!"

"Oh, my goodness, you're so good with her!"

The troll's eyes snapped open, and he found both Mial and Riskkaf gawking at him with stupid grins on their faces. The draenei woman had her hands clasped together and held them close to her heart, while Riskkaf had a crooked smile and knowing look in his eye.

Zebodah scowled and stopped his action immediately, "I ain't bondin'! I be just…"

"Bonding?" Riskkaf finished the statement with a snicker.

"Shut up," he snarled before looking back at Nadia. She was still close enough to his face to look her in the eye. Green regarded hazel as both watched to see what the other would do first.

The kid was first to break, but Zebodah ultimately lost. Nadia burst into a fit of giggles and grabbed his nose with both tiny hands. He groaned loudly as Mial and Riskkaf tried to contain their laughter but failed. Zebodah's supposedly unfeeling heart fluttered slightly as he registered the moment and the look of adoration in Nadia's eye that was meant for him. It seemed that this little baby had gotten attached to him.

And maybe, just maybe, he had gotten a little attached to her as well.

But it would not last.

* * *

Okay, another chapter all done! I'm doing my best to try to be as accurate as possible and owe much to the amazing Tmirai for her vast collection of troll facts and lore on Tumblr. I use it frequently for references.

Thanks for reading, and please review/follow/favorite so we can get others attention as well.

Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3: The Rascals of Shattrath

Disclaimer: I do not own anything World of Warcraft or anything by Blizzard, just my ideas.

Chapter Three: The Biggest Rascals in All Shattrath

* * *

 _[Ten years later…]_

Nadia, in the way of anything spiritual, had yet to achieve the expectations that Zebodah originally assumed. She did, however, go above and beyond in other areas.

…

Her first steps had not been wobbly or unsure. One day, out of the blue, she just stood up from crawling and ran. It had been so abrupt and unexpected that no one really remembered the cause. She could have been chasing something, or trying to keep up with someone. Or maybe, she just felt the need to get up and run.

Either way, once Nadia stood, it was nearly impossible to get her to sit still from then on. She had always been a busy child, but now being able to walk seemed to have made her 'schedule' even longer and more complex.

Speaking, too, allowed her three (well, two) parents more view into her young psyche. That is, when she spoke slowly enough to be understood. The girl began to babble less as she grew, and formed more complete sentences instead of incoherent nonsense. Most of the words that came out of her mouth were voiced as a question, usually towards Riskkaf or Mial. _What is the felweed for? How do you cook so well?_

 _Can I try/help?_ That one was the most frequent, much to the draenei and arakkoa's delight.

Riskkaf was absolutely enchanted with Nadia's curiosity and desire for knowledge, which was almost as great as his. He taught her willingly, and she interpreted and retained much more than what could be expected from a 10 year old. Whether or not she had any magical abilities he still had to determine, but she was not yet at an age when they began to surface, so there was still time.

Time for what? Well, a lot of things apparently, or so Mial had said.

While Riskkaf had taken the roles of 'father-figure' and 'tutor', the draenei had opted for 'mom'. She raised Nadia as if the girl were her own with a firm yet loving hand.

Mial had also taken it upon herself to teach Nadia as many things as she could. Most had to do with housekeeping: cooking, cleaning, fundamentals of being a good hostess. Others were more practical: etiquette, draeneic (yet they spoke common in day to day life), and basic first aid.

The arakkoa called her the 'matron of propriety'. She didn't appreciate the name he had come up with for her, but there was really no other term to describe what she was doing, and he did like to tease. However, they had both agreed that it would be in Nadia's best interests to raise her to be a jack-of-all-trades. Riskkaf knew that she would have more hurdles to jump as she got older because of her heritage: a crossbred refugee whose mother was a courtesan. She couldn't help that, no one could, but it made them more comfortable knowing that Nadia could make a living for herself.

It also helped that she actually liked some of these things, cooking more than anything else, and went above and beyond as usual. The arakkoa joked that she would be a 'master' of all trades often.

What they wouldn't have to worry about would be her handling of discrimination, which surprised everyone. Though still an adolescent, the times she had faced unfair treatment had been handled with a certain amount of grace and wit that surprised interrogators and onlookers alike.

Though her future was still fuzzy, one thing was for certain; Nadia refused to be disregarded.

* * *

"Nadia, another beer over here, please!"

The girl in question looked up from the dish she had been washing, "Coming!" She let it fall back into the basin with a soft 'plop' and wiped her dripping hands off on her skirt. For someone who preferred to wear pants and shorts, Nadia had to admit that skirts had their uses. They were much more absorbent.

Grabbing a jug larger than her head as she made her way to the exit, the girl took a moment to appreciate the setting sun she could see out the window. She would have given both her tusks to have been outside today, but Mial had needed her help that morning so she remained inside for the most part. Sighing, Nadia swept back the drape separating her from the front of the inn and stepped out.

The cool evening air was a great contrast to the much warmer kitchens she had spent most of the day in. The sky was something of a dusky orange color and clouds drifted here and there, giving the evening an overall impression of tranquility. People, from all sorts of races, were seated at tables and on the floor eating and drinking and laughing with one another. After the Sha'tar won a battle against some of the forces lurking around Auchindoun, everyone saw fit to celebrate, whether they had directly helped or not.

Nadia wove her way around a few dancing couples and tipsy celebrators to the group in the uppermost corner of her mother's tavern. Seated around a spread of meats, fresh bread, and fruit were two dwarves, a gnome, an orc, and Riskkaf. The five of them were joking about something to Mial, who was clearing away a few mugs and smiling occasionally. "Another for Lockie, and then wash these when you get back to the kitchen," the draenei said without looking up.

"Come now, Mial. The girl's been working all day; don't you think it's time she had a little break," Riskkaf exhaled a long stream of bluish smoke from the hookah he was smoking. He grinned and reached for another piece of smoked basilisk, "I promise we won't cause any mischief."

The others nodded excitedly in agreement and Nadia looked up at the woman with big, pleading eyes. But the priestess would not be so easily swayed, and she crossed her arms. "Really, no mischief whatsoever?"

"…Alright, maybe a little mischief." Everyone snickered at his admission and the arakkoa brought the nozzle of the hose back to his beak, "But what did you expect, it's us: the biggest rascals in all Shattrath."

Mial drummed her fingers on her upper arm in thought and looked back down at Nadia. The girl gazed back up at her with a half smile. "I'll wash all the dishes," she stated in a singsong voice while waggling her eyebrows.

They were all practically leaning forward in anticipation for a response and Mial couldn't help but titter at their silliness. "Alright, but don't keep her too long, there are a lot of dishes."

The was a collective cheer and the draenei moved to take the beer pitcher from Nadia, but the gnome held up her cup and made a protesting noise.

"Ah, ah, ah. Leave that here, would you? We'll take good care of it!"

Laughter started up again and Mial left to wait on a table full of Peacekeepers, shoulders shaking with mirth. Nadia sat the jug down in the middle of the table, and everyone went for it at the same time as Riskkaf waived her over.

"Nadia, be a saint and add some more coals to this for me." He jerked a thumb towards his colorful contraption before taking another sip of his drink.

She nodded cheerfully before prancing over to the hookah bong. The others were too busy squabbling over the single bottle of booze to catch her name, except for one of the dwarves who suddenly burst into a fit of laughter. He was completely bald but made up for it with his insanely long beard of deep red.

"Oi, yer kiddin' me!" He gestured his mug at the girl, some of his beer sloshing out, "This can't be Nadia, the lass is too tall."

Nadia looked up from her task to flash the dwarf with a big smile, "Hi, Lockie."

Lachlan Flintmane, who everyone knew as 'Lockie', was one of the many people who had come from Hellfire Peninsula. He, 'Binky' Tosslefuse the gnome, and the other dwarf, Barham 'Barmy' Steelmantle, had barely escaped the hot, desolate, demon-infested wasteland with their lives.

The threesome had met Nadia a few years back when they stumbled into the city, and it was her and Mial who had patched them up. Lockie didn't like Nadia at first; he had been cranky, bloody, and not in the mood to be nursed. Barmy and Binky grew to like her, but the same couldn't be said for their friend. It became worse when he learned of her heritage, thanks to Zebodah, and promptly ignored her for a while.

That all changed one day when Nadia accidentally spilled wine on his shirt and he lost his temper. Lockie promptly called her 'a stupid, good fer nothing, ugly half-thing'.

She responded by punching him in the face, knocking him out cold and breaking his nose, and refilling the others' cups as if nothing happened.

Binky and Riskkaf nearly choked to death with laughter, while Barmy and Mial just gawked at Lockie lying flat on the ground with their mouths hanging open. He came to (eventually); afterwards, the wine stain was removed, apologies given, noses healed, and someone was granted free grog for two months.

After that, the dwarf had a certain respect for the girl that eventually grew into friendship.

Lockie's grin grew wider and he stroked his long mustache, "By Magni's beard, ye gotten big lassie!"

The orc, who had been silent up till now, chuckled good-naturedly. "Children tend to do that," he said to no one in particular while picking up another piece of meat.

Kalrosh Rockeye had been there the longest out of all of them, even before Riskkaf. He was a levelheaded and agreeable orc of honor. No one knew of his backstory or life before Shattrath, but he seemed to like it that way. So they let it be.

"Aye, so they do." Lockie took another swig from his mug before letting out a long sigh, "Yer growin' up so fast, almost brings me ta tears!"

Barmy snorted, "Hah! That isn't te reason yer so upset, my friend. We all know ye lost the Iron Brew again."

Kalrosh raised a brow and directed it at the now seething dwarf, "Again, Lachlan?"

"What's the Iron Brew?" Nadia questioned, wondering what this was that got Lockie so worked up and the others sniggering into their beer.

"I did not lose it, I'll have ye know!" He gripped the handle of his drink tighter, "That ol' snake snot, Zebodah, stole it from me!"

"Then steal it back," Nadia blurted out and then blushed immediately at her blunt suggestion.

Binky nearly spit out her beer, "Paha! I like you kid; you got spunk." She patted the empty spot next to her, "You sit next to me."

"The Iron Brew," Lockie began while standing up with a grand gesture of his hand, "is my greatest possession. One of the only things surviving from our days in Hellfire. It's probably the tastiest, most amazing drink in all of Outland." He paused and looked pointedly at the now settled Nadia for dramatic effect, "O' course, I say 'probably' because no one has taken a swig yet. Been letting it ferment for nearly 70 years, and I'm saving it for something special."

"What kind of something special?" The girl questioned again while taking a large bite out of a piece of bread.

"Well…just something real special. Now shush: I'm gettin' to the good part. Ye see, about three years ago, Barmy, Binky, and I went out ta have a good ol' time with Zebodah. Us lads decided to have a drink off, and let's just say we got a little…tipsy."

"More like roaring drunk," Kalrosh supplied with a wink at Nadia, causing the much younger miss to laugh.

Lockie waved his hand dismissively, "Details, details. But the next morning, lo and behold, my brew is gone! According to Binky, lost it to the troll in a bet. Now that can't be true; the man can't gamble to save his life. So I go ta him and ask for it back nicely, but he refuses! Says he don't know what I'm going on about. Hah! Like I was gonna believe that!"

"What happened next?" Nadia was chewing faster now in eagerness.

"Well, that night, when he was in deep sleep, I broke in and stole it back. Serves him right, trying ta take this dwarf's cherished property!"

"So now," Binky picked up the tale with a grin, "it's sort of a long running joke. When one of them has it, the other tries to take it back and so on."

Riskkaf puffed out a ring of smoke, this time a green hue, "They've even got this ludicrous set of rules."

"Rules that the lot of ye came up with, thank you very much," Lockie crossed his arms with a huff.

"Because if we didn't, the two of you would've killed each other by now."

The dwarf's face turned the same color as his beard as his friends began to laugh all over again, "Yeah, well, that's not the point. Because of those blasted rules, I've hit my Break-in Quota for the month!"

"What does that mean?" Nadia's brow had long been furrowed in confusion. What kind of game was this?

"It means, lass," Barmy interrupted, "that he can't try to take it back for another week."

Lockie took an angry swig from his mug; "He'll probably have guzzled it all by then."

"Isn't there another way," the girl moved to refill his almost empty cup and he gave her a nod of thanks.

"Unless ye can find me someone willing to break in for me, then I'm all outa luck, lass." At this, he gave a pointed look at his two companions, both of whom were avoiding eye contact.

Binky held up her small hands as if to ward him off, "Don't look at me, I'm trying to play the role of 'neutral third party'."

"Tch, the last time I got involved, I ended up gettin' tossed head-first into a water trough," the other dwarf said with a roll of his eyes.

Lockie made a sound of distress, "O' c'mon! Help a laddie out!"

Riskkaf suddenly cackled, surprising everyone and gaining attention. "Tsk, tsk! I'm quite shocked, Lachlan. Really, I am! It's quite obvious that the solution to your problem is sitting right here," he jerked his head toward Nadia.

It was quiet for a moment as the others sat there completely dumfounded, not believing that the arakkoa had made such an impossible suggestion.

"M-me?" Nadia blanched and her large hazel eyes opened even wider, "I can't break into Zebodah's house and steal from him. He already hates me!"

"But he also would never suspect you," Riskkaf countered casually while breathing out another stream of colorful smoke. "Besides, he passed out intoxicated in his home a few hours ago. I should know: I'm the one who helped him inside. You could get in and get out without him ever knowing, and all before the sun comes up tomorrow."

Kalrosh, who had remained a silent spectator for the most part, sniffed in distaste, "Don't encourage her. We promised Mial no mischief."

"We said only a _little_ mischief," Bitsy supplied, adding her own two cents, "and what Mial doesn't won't hurt her."

Lockie had a grin on his face so large Nadia thought his face would split at any moment, "All's fair in love and war, lass. What do ye say?"

The pre-teen shifted uncomfortable under everyone's gaze, "I-I don't know…"

A small, greyish object suddenly invaded her vision, and Nadia had to cross her eyes to get a good look at it. Between Riskkaf's talons was a somewhat old looking key, but the smoothness of it betrayed the fact that it had been freshly minted.

"It's not really breaking in if you have a key," he smirked and tapped his hookah nozzle impishly on his beak.

This time, Binky did spit out her drink, "Holy tailpipe! Where'd you get that?!"

"By the ancestors," Kalrosh closed his eyes in surrender and shook his head at his companion's troublemaking. Riskkaf had far too many tricks up his sleeve…

"I'll make you a deal," the arakkoa pressed, ignoring the others' reactions. He poked Nadia on the nose with the key and chuckled, "I know how much you want to look at Zebodah's troll things, especially those fetishes. If you bring back Lockie's brew… you can keep the key."

Riskkaf knew this was a very risky move, very risky indeed. Zebodah, despite all of the arakkoa's efforts, refused to form an attachment to the girl. But he never stopped trying, ever since seeing that look on the troll's face ten years ago when he held Nadia for the first time and had done something so personal with her. If there was anyone who could save Zebodah from his path of self-destruct, it was her.

The girl couldn't help but stare at Riskkaf, searching for something to give him away. But he was not fibbing, and Nadia was certainly damn tempted now.

She knew she was part troll, and wanted to know as much about that part of herself as possible. Her curiosity demanded it, and so did some deeper part of her, but the one troll who could help Nadia know more about herself flat out dejected her. His unexplained hatred of her hurt, but that only made her more determined to uncover more of the culture that Zebodah spitefully denied her.

That was another thing: Zebodah did not like her… **at all.** When he found out about this (and she was sure he would), he would not react kindly.

But the prize, access to knowledge that was just out of her reach, was worth it. So, so worth it…

Everyone gazed at Nadia, waiting for her answer like excited children. She finally blinked before offering everyone a wry smile.

"Alright."

* * *

Aaaaanddd that's a wrap! This was originally going to be one chapter, but got too long to include the breaking in scene.

What will happen next when Nadia vs. Zebodah? Will tensions run deep? Which side of our troll will we see: the bitter drunk or the caring man who is buried inside?

Thanks for reading and check back soon for the next chapter!


	4. Chapter 4: The Lair of the Beast

Disclaimer: I do not own anything WoW or Blizzard...sigh.

 _ **Before we start, a big shout out to**_ _ **Sven Svenson**_ _ **and**_ _ **DF4WT4EVR**_ _ **for being the first two people to favorite this story, it means a lot! Especially to**_ _ **Sven Svenson**_ _ **for being the first review: thanks!**_

 _ **Even more good news, this story has reached over 100 views so far, which makes me proud! Please keep standing by and watching, I appreciate it, and please review and/or favorite/follow, as it gets other people interested the more there are.**_

 _ **Hope you enjoy!**_

* * *

Chapter Four: The Lair of the Beast

Night descended slowly on Shattrath, but for Nadia it came too quickly.

The others had long since gone back to their homes or lodgings, and everything had been mostly cleaned up. A few scattered plates and bowls were the only clues that hinted there had been a celebration only hours prior. Whatever food had been left over was wrapped up and taken by anyone who was clever enough to do so, and a content silence settled over the city.

After bidding goodbye to her friends and family, Nadia got started on the task she had promised Mial she would do.

There were, indeed, a lot of dishes.

It had been many hours since the sun had set, and she had spent most of that time sitting in or on various places in the kitchen scrubbing and drying the many stacks of pots and skillets that had been separated into piles. Being able to spend time with the people she cared about had been more than a fair exchange for just doing the dishes, but she was starting to run out of soap...

The door to the kitchen opened, and a very tired but satisfied Mial stepped into the kitchen's doorway. "You can finish those in the morning, if you like. Get some sleep, it's been a very long day," she said with a yawn and brought a hand up to cover her mouth.

"I will, but I think I'm going to finish this one first." Nadia gestured toward the particularly large serving dish in front of her, half of which was sparkling clean and the other half still a mucky with a film of some unidentified condiment.

The woman nodded slowly, "Alright, but don't stay up too late."

"Yes, ma'am."

With that, the priestess smiled softly and bid her adopted daughter goodnight before turning away and letting the door close. Nadia kept staring at the place she had once been and couldn't help but feel a little guilty about the thing she was about to do. She looked out the window and at the cloudy sky.

Even though it was obscured, the moon still shone brightly in the sky through the haze of clouds. It was not yet high in the sky, which meant that Nadia would have to act soon if she was to do as she had agreed.

Her hands began to move on their own accord as they scrubbed at the plate once again, only this time much faster and somewhat shaky. A few minutes later, it was clean and put back in its rightful place. Nadia took a moment to sigh and stretch, grinning as she felt the satisfying pops in her bones, before hanging up the damp apron she had been wearing. Picking up a bucket full of lukewarm and sudsy water, she pushed open the door to the outside with her back and stepped out.

The night air was cool and still, as it usually was, and she promptly dumped the pail out onto the ground. Water and bubbles splashed across the stone and spread out in all directions. Now that her job was done, Nadia could have gone back inside and ended the day right there and then.

Instead, she softly placed the bucket down in front of the door and pulled it closed behind her. Careful not to draw too much attention from those still out an about, Nadia cautiously pulled down her long skirt and let it fall to the floor in a heap, revealing a pair of simple cloth shorts underneath. After tossing the discarded garment over next to the pail, she anxiously fiddled with the waistband of her pants.

She wasn't just nervous: she was terrified. But not entirely in a bad way…

This was probably the most daring and adventurous thing she was about to do in her life, and she couldn't help but think that as she stood there wondering what to do next. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the key that Riskkaf had given to her. It was smooth and grey, and she couldn't tell if it was made of stone or metal. Nadia almost couldn't believe that something so simple and almost pretty belonged to _Zebodah_ of all people.

It's not that she didn't like the troll. Honest. It was just…hard to think pleasant thoughts of someone who didn't think very highly of you in return. Mial had always said to try and see the best in people, and she did, it was how she befriended Lockie and Barmy and Binky, even Kalrosh. It was something she always tried her hardest to do.

But if there was any 'best' in the shaman at all, then by the Light he was doing a bang-up job of hiding it.

Riskkaf had told her that the troll had shown some semblance of kindness to her once upon a time. But for reasons no one knew, the older Nadia got, the more Zebodah pulled away, and something cruel took his place. Any and all memories she had with him were not kind ones. They were usually filled with snide looks and cutting remarks or opinions. He was very rude and generally unpleasant, snubbing any attempts she made to form any sort of bond.

People, both friends and acquaintances, would ask Nadia why she tried so hard to make nice with Zebodah. Sometimes, she would ask herself the same thing, especially since her efforts had been in vain for the most part. Nevertheless, she kept trying.

He was probably the closest thing she would ever have to a people, a people to call her own…

Nadia shook her head vigorously and thrust the silver key back into her pocket, as if to shake away her thoughts and shove down the feelings that came with them, then looked back up into the sky. The moon had risen higher now.

The girl stood there for a minute before breaking out into a full sprint in the direction of Riskkaf's home, though his neighbor's was her real destination. She was running out of time and couldn't waste what amount of it she had left on pointless pondering.

Zebodah wouldn't be asleep forever…

* * *

The arakkoa had gone over in almost no detail as to how she should get in and get out as quickly and easily as possible.

He had explained how the troll usually kept his 'borrowed' items in the very back of his home in an unkempt pile. It would be easy to identify from the other various miscellaneous objects, as it would apparently look very out of place. The brew that Lockie so devotedly treasured would be stashed away in the form of a small, bronze-colored flask.

They were the most ambiguous set of facts she had ever received, but Nadia was given no other information than that, which made her task all the more difficult. It was almost uncharacteristic of Riskkaf to be so vague; he was usually a stickler for detail, and that caused her to worry.

It was the only thing she could think about while standing in front of the door to Zebodah's house, rigid as a soldier with hands clenched tightly at her side. The wind had picked up, and only made the shivers that were going down her spine all the more real. Nadia felt as though the door would swing open at any moment and reveal the troll's scowling face behind it, ready to blast her with lightning for her audacity. And the worst part was that it could be a possibility.

When she had asked Riskkaf how best to avoid the shaman, he had reassured the girl that the troll would not be a problem. Apparently, the last time he checked, Zebodah had been passed out cold on the floor of his home after another day of drinking too much.

But that had been hours ago, and there was no telling what state Zebodah would be in now. Nadia resolved that he could be anywhere from wide-awake to dead, though seriously and desperately hoped that neither extremes were the case.

Another gust of wind sang though the air and pushed her forward, as if encouraging the girl to go on with the plan. A shiver ran down her spine, which may have been from the wind too, and the key in her pocket suddenly felt very heavy and cold. With stiff fingers, Nadia slowly retrieved it from her pocket and slid it into the keyhole of the door.

With a quick flick of her wrist, one of Zebodah's barriers was undone.

She hesitated for another moment before gently pushing the door open. It was heavier than she expected and creaked ominously as its hinges turned to let in the visitor. If the troll was home, you couldn't tell because the entire shack was nearly pitch black except for a few scattered candles and the light of the moon that leaked in from the window. Nadia stepped lightly through the entranceway and let the door close behind her.

It shut softly with an almost inaudible click. She stood completely still for five seconds…ten seconds, before sensing no sign of the troll so far and letting her muscles relax in relief. If he was around or conscious, then surely he would have kicked her out by now (probably literally).

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could see that the inside of the shaman's home was a great contrast to the much scruffier and plain outside. Zebodah was not the type of person who anyone would assume to be organized; his usual disheveled appearance, vulgar language, and logic-starved antics made that loud and clear. Yet all his things, whether everyday useful items or decorations, were carefully and meticulously set about the house in a fashion that belayed an almost obsessive spotlessness: it was almost scary.

"Wow," she let out breathlessly as her eyes drank in the various objects of the room. Wherever the eye fell, there was something interesting to look at. An impressive work area composed of a large number of remarkable tools and materials sat in the corner under the window. In it, some bottles and boxes glowed, others would shake on their own occasionally, and some seemed to be filled with shifting mists and waters. An entire shelf on the wall was covered with all sorts of herbs and plants, arranged with the same structure shown in the rest of the room.

As her eyes continued to take in the home, they stopped when falling on the farthest corner of the room. Unlike the rest of the room, in its precision and spotlessness, that corner looked something like controlled chaos. Nadia could tell at first glance that none of the things in it belonged to Zebodah. Some were books with draeneic titles on magic, others on the Light, but most of the miscellaneous items were things she couldn't even begin to name.

And there, on the very top of that unkempt pile, sat a bronze flask, which shone even in the darkness.

Nadia's lips pulled back to reveal a toothy grin and she began to tiptoe her way over to her shiny objective. Without so much as a scuffle, her feet led her to the pile of borrowed things, while her small hands gently plucked the flask from its mantle. Feeling quite proud of herself, she slipped it into the pocket of her shorts and turned to make her escape.

The sound of moving fabric caused her to freeze as the smells of alcohol, rain, and fire filled her nose, and before she could gasp a three-fingered hand clamped down hard on her shoulder. The world suddenly spun and before she knew it, Nadia was lifted off the ground and staring Zebodah in the eye as he grasped the front of her shirt in his hand.

The look in his eye was violent and his mouth was strained in a feral smile. Anyone else would have thought he was grinning, but Nadia knew better.

He wasn't smiling; he was baring his teeth.

Zebodah snarled as he brought her face closer to his own, his foul grin still in place. The odor of liquor assaulted her nose, and their faces were so close she could bite on of his tusks if she wanted to.

"Well, well…ya know, I never took ya fo' a thief." She could smell many different scents of alcohol on his breath, and the girl could tell he was still drunk. The troll's words were slightly slurred and his eyes were red rimmed from the after effects of drinking and rage. His unwavering stare was like liquid fel fire and Nadia was sure he could taste her panic. As if to prove her right, his expression went neutral and he licked his lips, "Then again…"

"I-I'm not a thief," the quiver in her voice frustrated her and she began to fight his grip with her own daintier hands.

"Oh, really?" His hold on her shirt tightened, causing Nadia to squirm and kick her feet.

"Let me go!"

"No," he responded flatly and gave her a single rough shake, "I wanna know why ya be breakin' into my home in da dark o' night. Can't risk my tings to ya grubby fingers in da future, eh girly?"

Zebodah then lifted his free hand up to Nadia's face, and a strange expression that the girl had never seen before crossed his face when she flinched away from his touch. As fast as it had appeared, it was gone, and his features immediately morphed into a scowl as he tilted her chin up with a thick finger.

"Now, * _fen'di_ , " he snarled while looking down at her with something akin to loathing, "What'chu want?"

* * *

 _Okay! Another chapter all finished up!_

 _I have officially started college, so there's no promise of consecutive updates at exact times and dates, but expect the next one in a week or so._

 _Remember, please follow/favorite, as the more there are gets others interested. And reviews do the same as well as motivate me to write more!_

 _Thanks for reading, and see you next week!_

 _*fen'di - means "little girl" in Zandali_


	5. Chapter 5: Nadia vs Zebodah

Disclaimer: I do not own anything WoW or Blizzard, so boo to that.

* * *

 _ **Hey everyone, another chapter up and running. I'm trying to get out of Outland and to the Eastern Kingdoms as fast as I can allow it to happen, and then on to glorious and awesome M-rated stories with plenty of scandal and smut.**_

 _ **Anyway, a big shout-out to**_ _ **Iori Kami no Onii-sama**_ _ **for following this story. Thanks!**_

 _ **Also, almost to 200 views, so keep putting this story out there as much as possible guys, I really appreciate it. Now that my schedule is more or less set in stone, you readers can expect updates on Saturdays and/or Tuesdays. Check back then most often.**_

 _ **Enough talk; let's fight!**_

* * *

Chapter Five: Nadia v. Zebodah

Zebodah had known someone had trespassed into his home the minute Riskkaf's cheap replica of his house key slid into the lock. He had to give the bird some credit though; it was a pretty gutsy thing for him to do. Yes, the man did like to stir up mischief whenever he could, but this was a new level. The troll, drunk or not, was fully prepared to deal with his friend the right way.

His plan was to simply wait in the shadows unseen for the arakkoa to break in, do whatever it was he was going to do, and then exact revenge the next day. Nothing too complex, maybe a few verbal jabs here and there, set some tomes on fire. As passive-aggressive as it was, it was usually how he did things.

And then Nadia, the Crossbreed of Doom, waltzed through the door and everything went to hell.

Maybe it was due to his nature, or maybe it was because of the excessive amount of drinking he'd been doing all day, but Zebodah's temper surged when Nadia's small frame entered his house and began poking around.

She did not know he was there or awake, probably Riskkaf's doing, so for the time being he remained in the dark and observed her with almost a morbid curiosity. This was the most amusing thing to happen all day. The feeling gave him the sense of something similar to the hunt: watching, lying in wait until the prey made a mistake, and then going in for the kill. Zebodah felt a dark chuckle rise up in the back of his throat but kept it down, not willing to give himself away.

Instead, he smirked and ran his tongue over his teeth as Nadia advanced further into his home and slowly let her guard down. The girl appeared to be almost as curious as he was, though not in the same way. Her interest in his things and general living was almost disgustingly obvious. Yes, he knew she wanted to know more about 'being a troll'; she asked him questions about it almost every damn time they were together.

He never revealed anything, why should he? It wouldn't do anyone any good and was a waste of time: Nadia was no troll and never would be. Her trying to be something she wasn't was against nature. Zebodah was still suspicious about her: more specifically, her existence and unforeseen relation with the loa. His deities had been quiet on the girl's front for quite some time, giving not one single hint as to her purpose in life and in the world.

And as they seemed to lose interest, he took it as a sign to do the same.

Zebodah rarely saw her anymore, and the few time he did were usually because Nadia either sought him out or from the meddling of his peers. It was most often the first. The girl had this strange determination to squeeze all the knowledge out of him as she could, like a wet rag, and then become his 'friend' of all things.

The entire situation was annoying and ridiculous, which was probably what made her current actions toward him all the more comical.

He would bust her for this. Zebodah knew it was childish and almost pathetic to tattletale on a kid, but this was his ticket to peace. Once Mial caught wind of what she had done (through him of course), the already firm but fair woman would surely become even more strict and protective with Nadia. Meaning less free range for her and more solitude for him.

As the still inebriated troll sat giddily in the shadows, he noticed her moving closer towards his pile of loot. That was when he actually started to get mad. If she so much as put her grubby fingers on any of his rightfully earned goods, the shaman would throw the little brat over his shoulder and dump her at Mial's feet himself.

Then she pocketed Lockie's flask and the entire game changed. Literally.

The troll knew exactly what was going on right there and then. Zebodah did not like losing, especially to a big-mouthed dwarf like Flintmane. And this kind of loss, to an inside job done by a child, he would never be able to live down!

And so, that was how he found himself in his current situation: tipsy though gradually sobering up, angry, and sitting directly across from a moping and twitchy Nadia.

As much as he disliked her, the shaman had to give the kid credit. She was doing a pretty good job of putting up a brave front, even with the constant wringing of her hands. Her teeth were clenched tightly behind pursed lips, which were molded into a defiant pout. Nadia's entire frame was tense with adrenaline as she sat in a kneeling position, and the defiant look in her eye was almost admirable…almost.

"So, girly," Zebodah leaned forward in his sitting position to rest his elbows on his knees, "I'm gonna ask ya again: what'chu want?" Instead of responding with words like a normal, sane person, Nadia sniffed and rolled her eyes.

"I don't want anything."

"Dat be a lie, an' you know it!" His nonexistent patience had already run out, "I know it be Lockie dat sent ya, an dat ya be after _my_ liquor. I also be seein' the look in ya eye when you gawk at my tings."

Nadia scrunched up her nose as Zebodah retrieved a small bottle from his pocket and took a swig, "I don't know how you can see anything after drinking so much."

"And now, you be breakin' into my home because you got some greedy eyes an' fingahs!" He continued as if not having heard her, "Ya got some problems dere, half-thing."

The girl's eyebrows shot up on her forehead, and she looked at the troll with a genuinely disbelieving and surprised expression. "The unstable drunk is saying I have problems?" she blurted out before thinking.

"Watch your mouth, girly! I ain't afraid to discipline ya like those other two!" He raised a fist to her face for emphasis, and it seemed to do the trick. She broke eye contact immediately and was now staring at the floor.

It was true, though. In all her years of living, that was one of the things Zebodah ended up being associated with. These acts of discipline were not often, and usually sporadic, but always got their message through, whatever it was. He never hurt Nadia without reason. Never. To do so would be to further become a crueler version of himself.

But with every spank or whack to the head, Nadia would retreat from him ever slightly, if only barely. _And dat be what I want_ , the troll thought. _I want her away from me._

The girl that plagued his thoughts muttered something under her breath, bringing Zebodah back from his musings, "Eh? Speak up, fen'di."

"I said: Go ahead!" Nadia brought her face back up and glared at the shaman with blazing gaze. Her tiny chin was tilted up defiantly, though the troll could see her holding back fresh tears in her hazel eyes. "Nothing's ever stopped you before!"

 _Oh, okay. Ya wanna fight, girly? I'll fight…_ "Fine den, mebbeh I will," he snarled in a low voice, "It'll be harder for ya ta talk when I break ya jaw!" Zebodah then placed two fingers on Nadia's cheek and pushed forcefully, making her lose her balance from the graceful sitting pose Mial had taught her. She managed to catch herself with her arms before sprawling out on the ground and kept scowling at him with a stare that was too much like her mother's. A pang of sadness struck the shaman in the chest as his thoughts spiraled towards the late Vana'jia, Nadia's mother, and he took another drink. That only made him angrier and somewhat scared, realizing that the girl was doing everything he had been trying to prevent for years.

Neither spoke, too focused on themselves to do much else. It was eerily quiet in the hut for what felt like hours as Zebodah recomposed himself and Nadia tried harder to keep her tears from flowing over. The silence was finally broken when the older troll began to chuckle darkly.

"Why be I goin' back an' forth with ja?" His words were more slurred now than they had previously been, "Dis be my home, **you** be da one at fault. So, I gonna ask ya one last time: what'chu want?"

"Lockie asked me to get his flask back, and Riskkaf said I could keep your key if I said yes," she answered honestly. Her clenched, shaking fists betrayed the steadiness in her voice, "I like Lockie and it seemed like a good deal."

"Give it to me."

Nadia didn't have to ask what he meant and promptly retrieved the replicated key from her pocket. Instead of placing it into Zebodah's outstretched and waiting hand, she threw it at him, still holding his gaze with her scowl. Without blinking or breaking eye contact, the shaman caught before it could hit him as the girl had hoped would happen. He smirked and examined the key for a brief second before waggling it in front of the girl's face to mock her.

For a split second there was a simple and beautiful key invading Nadia's vision, and then heat splashed across her face as flames burst to life in Zebodah's palm. Riskkaf's gift/bribe was consumed in cruel colors of orange and red before it was no more.

"Well, it all be waste now." Zebodah brushed the remaining ashes off his hand, "So you can go back an' tell dose idiot–"

"But that's not what I want."

He paused for a brief second, surprised and caught off guard, before rolling his eyes and bringing his flask back up to his lips, "Den what do ya want?"

"I want to know."

"Know what, girly?"

"Why you won't teach me."

There was a moment of hesitation before Zebodah snorted and leaned in closer, "You wanna know why I won' teach ya? Fine."

Nadia sat up straighter and looked at him hopefully with a small smile that was too much like her mom's. All too soon, she had to duck as the glass bottle once in the troll's hand flew over her head and shattered against the wall behind her.

"I ain't gonna teach ya nothing because you be a filthy little crossbreed!" His words were no longer slurred as Nadia became his outlet for all his frustrations, "I don' know why you wanna know so much, but it be best if ya stop. Knowledge be power, and dat's the last thing you need! You're a crime against nature, a mistake! I ain't wasting my time with filth, with someone so unstable and causing disastah! You be no troll, and can't be even if ya try."

When Nadia didn't look up at him or even move from her fetal position, he let out a harsh bark of laughter, "You ain't worthy…"

Silence was all there was after that. Except for the girl's shaky breathing, there were no other sounds. Zebodah stared down at her, waiting for her to retaliate in some way, when he heard what sounded like hiccups coming from Nadia. It was then he realized they were quiet and choked sobs and huffed, "Aww, you gonna cry?"

"Why…why do you hate me?"

Maybe because her voice was so breathy and empty, or maybe because she sounded so hurt, but it was in that moment Zebodah remembered she was just a child. A child with the personality and mannerisms of an adult, but still a little girl nonetheless. All the frustration and anger went out of him like a snuffed flame and was replaced by what he could only guess was shame. The troll clenched and unclenched his fists over and over as he grappled for the right words to say.

"I don't…hate ya, girly." His words were hushed and honest, "Ya just remind me o' tings I'd rather forget…"

Nadia said nothing as she slowly lifted her head back up and pushed loose strands of hair out of her face. A painful memory involving Van and himself suddenly invaded the troll's thoughts, as in that moment the girl looked very much like her mother all over again. Zebodah could not bear to look into her tear stained face and sad eyes.

"What kind of things?" The tears had stopped falling and the perpetual glint of curiosity returned to Nadia's eyes. She couldn't help but wonder about the troll's sudden show of softer emotions.

The shaman shrugged, "Dey be a long time ago an' unimportant. Dere be no reason for ya to know." Zebodah's features hardened once again as he noticed his sudden slip of façade, "You should be mindin' ya own business anyway! Why ya gotta be so damn nosy all da time? Ain't dat how you got in dis mess in the first place? I swear, ya be just like ya motha!"

Nadia's eyes widened and her long ears quirked up, "My mother?"

The troll's eyes narrowed and his mouth snapped shut as he stared at the legacy of Vana'jia. Nadia did not know that he had any relation to her mother, and he had intended to keep it that way. Until tonight…

"Now, see here _fen'di_ –"

The girl in question suddenly sprung forward and grabbed hold of Zebodah's much larger hands with her smaller ones. A chill went down his spine at the sudden contact, and unwelcome thoughts of Van began to resurface once again.

"My mother? Did you know my mother? No one will tell me anything about her. Please, you must tell me something!" Nadia's eyes sparkled with hope and excitement, and her smile – her mother's smile – was stretched to maximum capacity. She was too happy at the prospect of hearing about her mom that Nadia did not notice the shadow that fell over Zebodah's face.

"Oh, what was she like? Please, I have to know! The others hardly ever talk about her; they say it's not their place! Was she kind? Was she pretty? What about adventurous? Could she dance and sing? What did she like to do?" She leaned closer to Zebodah with each word in eagerness, "Zebodah, please, I have to – "

The moment of hope was over almost too quickly as the shaman thrust the girl off of him and stood up so fast Nadia did not see him move. He was turned away from her, so she could not see his face, but she noticed the way his hands shook.

"Zebodah – "

"Get out."

She did not move. She did not dare to speak. Nadia just sat there and let the disappointment wash over her like a flood, "But – "

"Don't ya ever listen? Get out." He repeated more forcefully and slowly turned back to scowl at her, "Ya ask too much."

A child she may have been, Nadia knew pain when she saw it. It came with the territory of living in Shattrath. Mial had explained long ago that pain came in all forms, and only recently did she understand what the woman meant. She saw it, in its many forms. Sometimes as physical pain on the faces of those she would help patch up. Sometimes as a weary kind of pain of the soul that was not obvious, like in the eyes of Kalrosh or Mial when they were alone and thought no one could see. Nadia, too, knew pain in its loneliest and coldest forms only a crossbreed could know. But this was not the pain she saw in him.

This pain, the pain in Zebodah's eyes, was raw. It was similar to the hurt in Kalrosh, but harsher and a lot more alive, like the fire the troll could summon with ease in his hands.

Instead of pressing for an explanation, or even trying to console, Nadia did as she was told. Zebodah did not see her leave, as his back was to her once again. Instead, he heard the door creak open and close again with a soft thud.

When he finally turned around again, all that was left as a reminder of what had happened that night was Lockie's flask sitting in the place Nadia had once been.

And the feeling that this, whatever it was, was not over.

* * *

 _ **Well, hope you all liked it. Come back next time for more.**_


	6. Chapter 6: Snakes & Ladders - Part 1

Disclaimer: I do not own anything WoW or Blizzard. Which is too bad, cause I'd totally do an Emerald Nightmare expansion.

 _ **Hello everyone and a happy Tuesday to you all! Real sorry for taking so long, had a lot going on last week, though let it be know that the next chapter is almost done! Hope your weekend was smashing and your Mondays smooth sailing. As a reward for making it through the first day of the week, here's another chapter! This one should be less hostile than the last.**_

 _ **But first, a big thanks to**_ _ **Bohmzawe**_ _ **for reviewing, favoring, and following this story, it means a lot to me, really! Whenever people review it gives me a good confidence boost for at least 4 days or more! So thanks, and this chapter is especially for you!**_

 _ **Also, over 300 views, woohoo! Keep spreading the word and following, reviewing, and sharing if you please!**_

 _ **Without further introduction, here's the next chapter! Hope you enjoy!**_

* * *

Chapter Six: Snakes and Ladders – Part 1

It was a particularly normal day in Shattrath City. The sun was out, and the inhabitants went about their normal routines with a sense of contentment. Despite the fact that a few more Burning Legion members had been spotted lurking around the walls than usual, there was no reason to worry.

Except, Kalrosh Rockeye was worried.

Many months had passed since the party in which Nadia was tasked with retrieving Lockie's liquor from Zebodah, a task he had firmly believed would come to no good, and ever since then the two trolls had been acting strange. Both were interesting characters, so most would discount any unusual behavior, but the orc had been around for a while and knew a troubled soul when he saw one.

The girl's change in mannerisms was the hardest to detect, and probably would have gone unnoticed by all if Kalrosh had not spoken up a few days ago. Nadia may have been young, but she was very intelligent and others seemed to underestimate her complexity often.

From the morning following the event till now, Nadia had been uncharacteristically quiet. The more time passed, the more the girl retreated into herself until she hardly spoke at all during any given day. Her usual wondrous questions had decreased to the point where Kalrosh almost didn't believe she had once been a curious, talkative child and that scared him.

However, it was Zebodah who expressed the most obvious and worrying changes. He had, the very same morning after the attempted heist, walked right up to Lockie and shoved his flask back into the dwarf's hands. Everyone stared at him, afraid to blink as though the scene would vanish like an illusion, and really had nothing to say. The troll's only explanation had been that 'he didn't want it anymore' and then something about 'her ruining that too'.

Kalrosh wasn't easily surprised or disturbed, but even he had to admit that it was odd. Things only got stranger when Zebodah's mood and general well being took a nosedive. His appearances became fewer and fewer until no one, not even Riskkaf, had seen the shaman for days. Before then, he had become quiet like Nadia, but not in her contemplative manner. His drinking had increased and he would be caught with a glazed over expression more than once. It was almost like the troll was mourning…

The orc had no idea what could have happened between the two of them and did not want to take a guess. It seemed as though permanent damage had been done to their already strange and rocky relationship. Everyone was beginning to become more concerned with their behavior, including the usually unperturbed Riskkaf, and had started to miss their companions. It was not the same without either, even Zebodah.

To be honest, Kalrosh was surprised that no one had come up with an idea to do something about it. He had expected Mial or perhaps Riskkaf to have taken action by now but it appeared that not a single person had even the faintest clue as how to help.

Except, he had an idea. Wasn't sure how good it was since he was not the "idea man" of the group, but it was an idea nonetheless, which was more than what his friends could show for. Mial may or may not like it, but once the thought was planted in the minds of the others it would be majority rule.

Zebodah definitely wouldn't like it, but since he hadn't made an appearance in days the troll's feelings were out of the equation by default. But now was not the time for Kalrosh to worry about anyone's spirits getting hurt. He usually didn't, not even on a perfect day, but especially not now.

Nadia's birthday was tomorrow, and while they may be living in times of uncertainty and hazard, he was determined to give her one of the best ever.

* * *

"Mial, I was thinking."

The priestess looked up for a brief moment before turning her attention back to the pan she was heating up over the stove, "Yes?"

It was Friday; a day everyone took off for the sake of enjoying a longer weekend together, and the whole gang had gathered that morning to enjoy a large breakfast at the request of Kalrosh. All would contribute in some way to increase the spread at the table. They usually held it off until the following morning, the morning of Nadia's birthday, but since it was the respected Kalrosh who had asked and the girl showed no sign of displeasure, they came without question.

It was an impressive meal so far, with all sorts of delicious foods crowding the table. While some would argue that Shattrath was in run down state their little family always managed to make things happen one way or another. It gave them a way to take their minds off of the situations they were in.

Everyone was there, except for Zebodah, who was still nowhere to be found. That fact worried both Mial and Kalrosh, since this was one of the few meals the troll rarely missed, but tried not to think too much about it as to not spoil the rest of the day. He would show up somewhere eventually.

"Well…Nadia turns eleven tomorrow, as you know, and I thought we might do something special this year." Kalrosh turned his head just enough to get a good look at the girl's profile from her place at the table. While the others currently sat at the table and dug into the meal that Mial and Nadia had prepared during the early hours of the morning, the orc chose to stand with the priestess as she went on with the cooking. It allowed him to tell her of his plan in private for the time being, as well as give him a good view of the girl.

He had been keeping an eye on her for the past week, to see if he could spot the cause for her current grey mood, but had no luck. Even now, Nadia sat with an almost jaded expression as she nibbled on a roll. Her eyes were unfocused, and she presented none of her usual rowdiness or bubbly personality.

"What kind of something special?" Mial's voice was barely more than a murmur as she became more absorbed in her cooking and less on Kalrosh's conversation.

"As it so happens, there is an expedition heading out towards Silmyr Lake," he continued on a bit louder than before, hoping to catch Nadia's ear and therefore her curiosity. Kalrosh didn't get the girl's attention as he had hoped, but did see the way Riskkaf leaned a bit closer to the standing pair, "Just us here, a few Peacekeepers, some others, and maybe Zebodah. We're to hunt and fish enough to help restock supplies."

"Hmm, that's nice," Mial still hadn't tuned in to what he was implying, but the others had quieted down completely to hear what he was saying. The orc could practically see the gears in the arakkoa's mind turning.

"It's not dangerous, and we all know the trail well. Not very far from the city either."

The draenei just nodded and hummed as she moved to chop up some more fruit, though everyone else appeared to have finally caught on. Lockie and Barmy both smirked and cast each other hopeful glances, while Binky's small frame was practically bouncing up and down in her seat. Riskkaf was nodding to himself and thoughtfully tapping his chin, no doubt concocting his own slew of birthday schemes for Nadia.

"Anyway, perhaps, if you are alright with it of course, Nadia might come with us outside the walls this time."

Mial just nodded again, still not paying full attention, until she actually processed Kalrosh's suggestion. She remained absolutely still for a moment before she scowled and all hell broke lose.

"Absolutely not!"

"A grand idea, Kalrosh!"

"How exciting!"

"Her first time outside, awesome!"

It was hard to tell what was going on, since everyone was shouting at once, but the only voice that mattered to Kalrosh at that moment was Nadia's. For the first time in months, she was genuinely smiling.

"Really?" Her eyes were glittering like topaz at the prospect of an adventure beyond the walls, "Could I really go outside?"

"Why, of course you can, lass!" Barmy ruffled her hair like the child she was and was usually forgotten to be, even though she was taller than him by a few inches, "I don't know why we haven't taken you before."

"We'll have to get you some boots, and a bigger bag," Riskkaf was already taking out a piece of parchment and quill from his own pack with the intent of making a list of things to get.

Binky took a quick sip of her juice, "And longer pants – and a cloak! It can get chilly during the – "

"Stop!"

All chattering stopped as Mial shouted and slammed her hands forcefully onto the table, causing everyone to jump. The woman had never been aggressive in any way, until now it seemed.

"No one is getting a cloak, or boots, or long pants, or a bag because no one is going outside those walls."

Everyone's faces fell, but none fell as hard as Nadia's, "But why?"

"You know exactly why," she countered evenly. Any pleasantries Mila may have presented earlier that morning were now gone, "Nadia, please give me a moment to talk to everyone… _alone_."

"But – "

"Now, please."

Arguing was pointless, everyone knew it, but that didn't stop the girl from sneering and making as much of a scene when leaving as possible. Mial waited a good few seconds after Nadia slammed the door behind her to collect her thoughts before beginning her assault.

"What are you thinking? Making a ridiculous suggestion like that," the priestess didn't even try to hide her displeasure and was already seething. "You're getting her hopes up for nothing!"

"What do you mean it's all for nothing? Nadia's wanted to go beyond the walls for ages now," Lockie crossed his arms and returned Mial's glare.

"Don't you understand: she can't go out there."

"I'm sorry, but I don't see the problem here." Binky jumped down from her seat and stared up at the other woman, "There's no reason why she shouldn't go."

The priestess turned her glower to the gnome, "There's plenty of reasons why she shouldn't go. For example: she doesn't know the first thing about the outside."

"Well, whose fault is that?"

As Kalrosh advanced slowly to the pair from his corner in the room, he could see the others still at the table move the silver wear away from the two women. Whatever tension had been in the room before had increased tenfold as the two females began to size each other up. Even Riskkaf had become serious.

"Binky – " the arakkoa began in an attempt to intervene, but the gnome was just getting started.

" **You** may not see it, but Nadia's a smart kid. She's tough, and she knows how to take care of herself. If you keep her closed off from the world, she's never gonna get anywhere in life."

"And where exactly is she going to go, hmm? Out there to get herself killed?"

"No, she's gonna go out there to see for herself what's beyond those walls. You can't keep her cooped up Mial, it's not healthy!"

"It's certainly a better alternative to letting her run rampant out there with the Burning Legion nipping at her heels! Do you have any idea what they would do to someone like her? It's bad enough that some of the people around here look at her like she's target practice, but if someone so despicable were to ever – "

"We know that, Mial," Barmy interrupted with a sigh, "but that ain't gonna happen, not with the lot of us around ta keep an eye on her."

The draenei rolled her eyes as she let out a huffed groan, "Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep an eye on Nadia? She's a wild child, almost impossible to control; she'll run circles around each and every one of you all day."

"Ya see that! Right there, that's your problem!" Binky threw her arms up in exasperation, "You're trying to control her when, in fact, you can't and shouldn't. Nadia's got spark, a real spark, and you're trying to smush it!"

"I'm trying to keep her alive!"

"What she's doing right now isn't living. She needs to get out there and try new things, play, see and experience stuff, make mistakes, feel something: that's living. Making her stay in here all day everyday _baking_ isn't going to help her live!"

"There's nothing wrong with what I'm doing!"

This was a mess, and Kalrosh officially decided that this was the first and last time he would ever come up with an idea. He had never expected this to blow up in his face so badly… "Mial, no one's saying that –" he began to interject but was cut off.

"And as far as I see it," the draenei's scowl deepened, "there isn't exactly much living to be done here."

"Of course there is, you just have to go out and find it. You have to chase after life's quests or you'll never actually live, like what I did! I've never passed up the opportunity for adventure."

Mial's eyes narrowed into thin slits, causing their glowing to become harsh. She leaned down to get closer to the gnome's face as if talking to a child and said, "And look where it has gotten you…"

Barmy stood up so suddenly that his chair screeched loudly against the floor, "Hey now…"

Binky's large blue eyes flashed before narrowing and her tiny nose scrunched up in a sneer. Before anyone could say or do anything else, the door swung open so fast that it hit the opposite wall with a loud bang. Everyone's head turned to watch as Zebodah swaggered in while still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

He stood there for a moment, completely oblivious to the situation, before realizing that everyone was staring at him. The troll read the room and finally felt the heavy tension as his eyes flicked back and forth between its occupants. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and turned to Kalrosh, the only person in the area he would dub sane, "Is dis a bad time?"

"No…not at all." Mial straightened back up and gracefully hurried back over to the stove, not making eye contact with anyone. Her back was stiff as she once again began to reheat the pan. Binky stood in her spot for a moment longer before making a noise Zebodah could only assume was a growl and stomping back over to her seat. The others, too, tentatively went back to what they were doing.

The shaman made eye contact with Kalrosh, who just shook his head and motioned for his friend to sit down. "Did I miss something?" Zebodah's question was directed at the orc but was loud enough for all to hear.

Before Kalrosh could come up with a response in the most neutral way possible, as to not rekindle the fire, Riskkaf cut in.

"We, err, were…discussing – well, debating – on whether or not Nadia should, um, join us on our next outing…for her birthday…tomorrow," the arakkoa made it his current mission in life to not look at Binky or Mial and quickly shoved a piece of fruit into his mouth.

"Oh," the troll's reaction was calm at best, and it was a reaction that no one expected. They all thought he would get angry or annoyed, but no. In fact, Zebodah looked…bored.

"Oi, you wouldn't…mind if Nadia just so happened to tag along?" Lockie cast a quick glance at his gnome friend, who was decimating a piece of meat with her knife and fork, and then one at Mial, who was forcefully tossing chopped up fruit into her pan, "Hypothetically speakin', o' course."

Zebodah sat there for a minute before shrugging and snatching a piece of fruit for himself. "I don' care," he muttered before taking a large bite. It was the truth; he didn't care. He was too tired to care, "As long as she keep outta my way and doesn't go runnin' off, den I don't care."

An uncomfortable silence filled the room. The only prevalent sounds were the sizzling of the pan and the violent clinking of Binky's cutlery. The troll swallowed heavily and looked a bit queasy for a moment before turning to Kalrosh with his neutral expression back in place.

"So, is da fen'di goin'?"

Before Kalrosh could answer, Mial sighed deeply and looked over her shoulder to everyone at the table.

"I will…think about it." And with that, she whipped her head back around and went on with her business.

Zebodah just shrugged in response as he leaned back in his chair and brought the fruit back up to his lips, "Hmph, dis should be an interesting trip den."

* * *

 _I lied; this was just as hostile as the last chapter. Sorry._

 _Anyway, please follow/review, I would really appreciate it. Thanks! See you next time!_


	7. Chapter 7: Snakes & Ladders - Part 2

Disclaimer: I do not own anything WoW or Blizzard. I'm a bit salty about that but will get over it.

 _ **Hey everybody! Thanks so much for reading the last chapter, and, as promised, here's the next one. Sorry for posting it a day late, but I legit forgot and had to finish a paper for class and have tests coming up.**_

 _ **This particular chapter is split into four parts, so there's going to be a Part 3 and 4 after this one.**_

 _ **Hope the rest of your week is spectacular, and may this add to its awesomeness. Expect a poll to open up soon in regard to this story on my profile page, so please take the time to vote when it opens, as it will directly affect you, my readers!**_

 _ **Also, another big thanks to**_ _ **Bohmzawe;**_ _ **you're the best! And to**_ _ **cythia**_ _ **, for following, thanks!**_

 _ **Lastly, and this is just a fun fact, the first time I typed Peacekeeper my laptop autocorrected it to Pancake. Not really important, but I thought you all might find it amusing!**_

 _ **Release the fan fiction!**_

* * *

"Mama, are you okay?"

The woman looked down in surprise at the smaller girl standing beside her as they waited outside for the others to arrive. Her adopted daughter stared back up at her with a blank face and distinctive wide, curious eyes. It was extremely early, much earlier than Mial would have started her usually busy days. But Nadia had woken herself up and was dressed and more than ready to go before the priestess had a chance to get out of bed and verbally wish her little girl a happy birthday.

Today was the day. Everything had been packed the night before, and the others had gone over with Nadia what she should do multiple times, so she was all set and ready to go. The draenei had been pleasantly surprised about the simplicity of their journey, which should have calmed her nerves…

Mial knew the others had done this before, enough to probably write a fairly detailed book about it. They were all seasoned fighters, and Nadia was a smart girl who could stand on her own eleven-year-old feet well enough. The trail was safe, the sky was clear, and there was absolutely no reason to be concerned.

Unfortunately, Mial was worried beyond description.

The priestess forced a smile that strained her cheeks, "No, dear. I'm just fine."

It was a terrible lie and both of them knew it. The girl's thin brows knit into concern as her hands fiddled with the strap of her new bag. It was almost as large as she was and packed with so much stuff that it practically burst at the seams. To the average observer, it would look as though Nadia would tip over at any moment. But her feet were planted firmly on the ground with the determination of an eager soldier as her body rocked back and forth in excitement. Every now and then, she would march in place, as if to rev herself up to take off in a sprint the moment the others came into view.

Now, though, she stood still as her eyes scanned over her mother's face. Mial looked away as to not give herself up and turned back to the street the others were supposed to be coming down, "Where are they? They were supposed to be here by now. Oh, I knew that they would be late."

Nadia did not respond but looked down the path too as she bit her lower lip, brows now scrunched up on her forehead. The priestess glanced back over and automatically knew the girl was thinking about something because she had gone silent as opposed to her earlier thrilled chatter.

"Nadia, what is it?"

She opened her mouth and closed it again, struggling to find the right words, before finally looking back up and asking, "Do you…want me to stay?"

All the woman could do was stare down at Nadia as she continued on, not giving her a chance to respond.

"I-I know that you don't really want me to go. I know that you're scared, even though I'm gonna be careful, but I don't want you to be afraid." Her fingers tightened around the straps of her pack and as she glanced away, "So, if staying means that you won't be scared anymore…then I can stay."

In that moment, Mial had never been more proud. She knew how much Nadia had her heart set on this, and yet she was willing to give it up if it would put her mom's mind at ease. A selfless offer, one that finally reassured her that her daughter would be fine.

"No, no, my sweet, you do not have to stay. This is good for you, this adventure." Mial bent down on her knees to the girl's level and began to straighten whatever part of her clothes the priestess could get her fingers on, "You will get to see what is outside and learn new things, an unforgettable experience. It is just…"

Her hands had wandered their way up to Nadia's head of thick, dark locks. She had tried to pull it all back into controlled ponytail earlier that morning and failed comically. The waves and curls refused to be controlled, and multiple strands of blue-black hair had managed to escape the hair tie. Mial tried to persuade one particularly rebellious spiral between Nadia's eyes back into place with her fingers, and couldn't help but giggle as is sprang right back out again.

"You are all I have now."

Nadia's hazel eyes went wide for a moment before she burst out into cheerful laughter. It was light and pleasant, like music. Like wind chimes, really. Mial didn't realize how long it had been since she heard it, or how much she missed it until it flowed from the girl's mouth and lit up her heart like the sun.

"Oh, mom, you're so silly. I'm not the only thing you have," she smiled a toothy grin before her head whipped towards the road and began waving suddenly with an excited gasp. The woman did not know what she meant by that and looked to see whom Nadia was waving at.

"Oh dear..."

"Wow!"

"Look 'ere, everyone! Mial's come to kiss us all goodbye!" Lockie pointed to the pair standing further down the street from atop an elekk of impressive size with Riskkaf and Barmy sitting behind him waving like Nadia. A rather amiable looking Vindicator, who both Mial and Nadia recognized, led the creature as it steadily moved closer.

"Lachlan, sit down, and don't blame anyone if you fall." Kalrosh cast a stern look up at the ridiculous threesome from his place beside the great beast. There wasn't enough room for everyone on top, so the melee fighters had opted to walk while those with ranged weapons or magic rode in the travel saddle.

Zebodah walked a few paces behind Kalrosh, looking disinterested and aloof, while Binky traipsed along on the other side of the elekk. She had a lopsided grin on her face as her small arms swung back and forth with purpose. A two-handed shining axe bigger than she was strapped to her back with a secondary weapon, a dagger, at her hip.

The troll had his own impressive weapon as well, a fearsome looking armament that Nadia could not name. It had the appearance of two swords being fused together at the hilt with both blades sticking out at either end. She didn't get a very good look at it, since it was strapped to his back as well and could only be seen when he turned around, but it was a curious thing nonetheless.

Mial glanced back at Nadia and saw the enamored look on her face, eyes sparkling like she had seen some new treasure. She briefly wondered how long it would be before the girl would be insisted upon having a weapon of her own. 'By the Light, may it never come to that,' she prayed silently to herself as her child rushed forward to meet everyone.

"It's so big!" She exclaimed with a giant smile as she came to a screeching halt in front of the elekk. Her head swung to look at the draenei male nearby, "Can I touch it?"

The Vindicator chuckled and gestured toward the animal's trunk, "Of course, little Nadia."

"I'm not little; I'm fun sized!"

"Ah, yes. My mistake, fair lady."

She giggled and slowly began to pet the large being's nose, "What's his name?"

"We call him Buur, and he will be carrying our supplies to and from the city this trip."

The elekk, who was usually indifferent to strangers, did not mind this new, small, happy person-thing touching him. Her hands were smaller, warmer, and softer than any previous traveler's. She laughed and smiled too, whatever she was, especially whenever he made a trumpet sound of appreciation. It smelled better, too, Buur soon discovered when the small one suddenly hugged his trunk and laughed louder. Perhaps this one had snacks?

The warrior of the Light chuckled again before he saw Mial watching the exchange. A blush immediately made its way across his face accompanied by a shy smile, "Good evening, Mial."

Zebodah made a sound of disgust in his throat and crouched lower to the ground, "It's mornin', ya moron."

His blush intensified and he bowed deeply, "Ah, yes, good morning."

Mial returned the bow with a nod and small grin, "Good morning, Vindicator Armaan. I did not know that you would be joining them this time."

"Why, yes. When I heard that the child would be coming with us, I thought that perhaps your mind would be more at ease knowing there would be someone else to keep an eye on her."

It did, it really did. "Thank you, Vindicator Armaan, I appreciate it more than you know."

"Hey, we gonna get a move on or what?" Binky impatiently tapped her foot as the two much taller people stared down at her, "I don't think any of us have all day."

Mial glared as Armaan, embarrassed, nodded before walking away quickly to help Nadia load her backpack on with the rest of the other's things, "Binky, a word, please?" The gnome blinked before following the priestess as she walked further away from the group. Mial stopped when she was sure they were out of earshot, "I wanted to apologize for what was said yesterday."

The small warrior placed her hands on her hips, "Just so ya know, I regret nothing. Not one of my decisions."

"Yes, I know that. Everything I said yesterday, I did not mean it. I was very distressed, nothing more."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure you were."

"Binky, I truly am sorry."

"Whatever, just…remember that Nadia's got a soul that can't be locked up, she'd go crazy. Ya gotta let her out more."

"I…will try." Mial relaxed a little as the gnome seemed to be moving on from the subject, "As long as you remember that she is still just a child."

The warrior offered her a wry smile, "Well, yeah, I know that! She's got _way_ more energy than any of us adults."

"Yes," the priestess chuckled, "I suppose she does. So much spirit, and in such a young person."

Binky nodded in agreement, "Right you are! And quit your worrying for crying out loud, I'll keep a special eye on her the whole time." The gnome laughed as Mial let out the breath she didn't know she was holding and her shoulders visibly relaxed, "She won't go running off on my watch! See ya in two days!"

With that, the warrior trotted off to join the rest of the group as they prepared to leave. Mial watched as they tightened the straps of Nadia's bag to Buur the elekk one last time for good measure, and she felt nervousness rise up in her chest again. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Zebodah off to the side away from the others and sharpening a weapon of some kind, and an idea came to mind.

"Zebodah," Mial picked up her skirt and glided quickly over to him.

At hearing his name, the troll looked up and watched, still disinterested, as the draenei woman approached him.

"I have a request of you."

The response she got was a roll of the eyes as he said, "If dis is about me brushin' my teeth again or something, den I ain't hearing it."

The woman blinked, "What? No. This has nothing to do with that. It is just you are clearly one of the more seasoned fighters of the expedition, and that trait is something I desire at the moment. You see, there is a certain task I need someone of your…caliber to complete."

"What do ya want, Mial?"

"Please, make sure Nadia comes back to me," she blurted out in one long string of pleading whispers. "Make sure she comes back home safe, back to _us_ safe."

She nodded with her head back over to the large group who were gazing expectantly at the pair. Riskkaf was twirling a wand between his fingers as he lounged atop the elekk, showing some signs of impatience with the action.

"We're all set to go. What's the hold up?"

"One moment, please," replied Mial as she turned back to Zebodah and waited for his answer.

He tapped a clawed finger to the blade as he turned the request over in his thoughts a few times. Mial began to feel disappointment at his silence, until he suddenly stood up to his full height and strapped the weapon to his back once again.

"I made a promise, once, eleven years ago to the day," he began in a voice that only she could hear, "dat I would always bring 'er home. And now, I'm gonna make da same vow to you."

The shaman touched a hand lightly to her arm and looked her dead in the eye "Ya may not always see it, or know what I done, but I'll always make sure ya girly gets home for as long as ya need me to."

Before Mial had a chance to respond, Zebodah turned around and made his way back to the caravan. She was stunned, absolutely stunned, but finally had the reassurance she needed for this adventure and the many years to come.

"Alright, we're movin' out!" Lockie pumped a fist into the air and Barmy let out a loud cheer, "Let's do this!"

Kalrosh rubbed his forehead and sighed, "By the ancestors…"

"Bye mom!" Nadia waved back excitedly from atop Buur at her mother as the group moved farther and father away from the priestess.

Mial finally snapped back to her senses and realized just how far they had gotten and how soon they would be gone. She grinned and waved back as Nadia laughed cheerily and settled beside Barmy. When they were almost out of sight, the draenei turned to go inside and begin preparations for the day. There would be more to do now, with only one person. That is until the sound of shouting caught her ear.

"Wait, wait, wait, _wait_!"

"Nadia, what the – "

Mial spun around just in time to see her daughter slide down from the great beast and sprint back towards her. Had she forgotten something?

When she finally got close enough, Nadia launched herself in to Mial's arms and wrapped her arms around her mother as much as they would go. When the priestess finally got over her shock, she hugged the girl back tightly and pressed her closer to her own body.

A few seconds passed before Nadia pulled back and pointed a finger back to the group still back at the caravan. "See, mom, I'm not all you have," she whispered.

When Mial finally realized what Nadia had meant all along, the girl had slid out of her hold and was running back to them as fresh tears began to form in the woman's eyes.

"I love you!" Nadia called back over her shoulder when she was halfway to the assembly.

The priestess took a shaky breath and tried to hold her tears in as she smiled widely and began waving again, "I love you too!"

By the time Kalrosh had helped the girl back onto the elekk, Mial's eyes had already watered over. For the first time in a long while, however, they were tears of happiness instead of sadness. She watched as they finally made their way to the end of the street and the turned out of sight. Lower City went still and quiet once again as Mial wiped the last of the tears from her eyes.

"I love you too…"

* * *

 _ **Tada! Hope it was good! Views have more than doubled since Ch.5, so I must be doing something right. You readers and followers/reviewers/favorites are definitely helping me out there, so a big thanks to you!**_

 _ **Tune back next time for Part 3!**_


	8. Chapter 8: Snakes & Ladders - Part 3

Disclaimer: I do not own anything WoW or Blizzard. I will survive this travesty…

 _ **What's up my fellow falafels? Surprised, are we? I'm finally getting around to posting a new chapter; the first of the month! ***_ _ **Gasp**_ _ *****_

 _ **Sorry it took soooo long, but as you can see, this chapter is pretty detailed, and I wanted it just right! Since it is National Novel Writing Month, I will be spending a bit of time away from FanFiction, and more on the novels I'm working on, but still expect updates!**_

 _ **I hope your weekend was as delectable as that tasty treat, and that this week is yours for the taking! A big shout out to**_ _ **Bohmzawe**_ _ **and our Guest for reviewing, and to**_ _ **PotMarc**_ _ **and**_ _ **WiltedHearts**_ _ **for following: thanks guys!**_

 _ **Only one part left to go for this adventure after this chapter, and after that we'll take a fresh turn down the road of everyone's lives (you know, before my impending life changing crisis that will forever alter the course of their futures). ***_ _ **Cough**_ _ *****_

 _ **But before all that, please sit back, relax, and enjoy this sweet serenade of words crafted to give you the sights and sounds and experience as if you were actually there.**_

 _ **But first, I have that new poll up for everyone reading this to vote on if you feel inclined. It's about a new story I was thinking of starting, which would take away time from this one a little bit, but would give you all something new to read as well. I kinda already know my choice, but would like to hear your opinions as well! It'll still get written, the other one, just after entire "The Ties that Bind" series is over.**_

 _ **Thanks for reading this long boring post, now onto adventure!**_

* * *

Nadia had never seen anything so beautiful in her life.

Terokkar Forest was a magical place, it really was. More than anything she could have possibly imagined. It was almost like something out of a myth or a legend, with its thick, mysterious underbrush and towering trees. The crystals that grew at the base of these natural giants were bigger than she was. They gave off a mysterious green color, which, combined with the glowing blue terocones that hung from the branches in thick clusters and littered the ground, caused the entire wood to shimmer with the colors of the earth and sky.

The air was so fresh, as though it had never before been breathed by anyone. It smelled heavily of rain and soil, and was as sweet to the nose as sugar was to the tongue.

"Keep up, Nadia. We can't have you getting lost," Kalrosh was grateful he had glanced behind again because the girl had stopped once more to spin around slowly in circles while staring up at the ceiling of branches and leaves.

The youngest member of the party twirled round swiftly one last time for good measure before running back over to the orc and slipping her hand into his larger, weathered one. Kalrosh glanced at their joined hands in surprise before looking back ahead without so much as a smile or frown, but he did tighten his grip around Nadia's ever so slightly. The action reminded him of his own children once upon a time in a life that was now just a memory.

A lot of things about Nadia reminded him of his passed children and his past life; perhaps that was why he took such interest in her. It was refreshing, really, to be distracted from those memories even if only for a few fleeting moments. As short as they may have been, they were the same moments that made life for Kalrosh worth living again.

"Look alive everyone, we're nearly there!" The shout came from one of the other expedition members up ahead whose name had long been forgotten to the orc. He did not frequently take part in these excursions so there was no reason to remember everyone's titles; besides, he knew everyone who mattered already.

Out of all the groups he had traveled with, this one was by far the largest, due to the increased activity of the Legion no doubt. It was composed of three separate groups, including their own, that had decided to travel as one. Large enough to put up a good fight, but still small enough to slip through the forest with ease, it was a skilled company that was traveling to restock Shattrath's supplies.

If memory served Kalrosh correctly, the leading troupe with their many large elekk was made up entirely of Peacekeepers and Vindicators: the muscle. His group, the one in the middle, had come along to provide support for fishing and hunting as well as extra protection. And the last, comprised of an array of other refugees, brought up the rear with their hunting specializations.

While he trusted the Sha'tar enough, and his own group, obviously, the third one had gained his ultimate suspicion. Composed mostly of humans who had escaped from Hellfire Peninsula, they were a shady bunch.

He had, thanks to the help of the two dwarves and gnome who had come from the same land called 'Azeroth' as the third party, he had some understanding of the reasons why those humans would always look at him with such…well, hatred. There was no better way to describe it, so why bother to sugarcoat anything at all?

Unfortunately, their opinion of him wasn't the issue. What Kalrosh did have a problem with was the way they eyed both Zebodah and Nadia. From what he knew, the animosity towards the troll and part-troll seemed unwarranted. It wasn't entirely one way, it seemed, since his shaman friend would return any glares or whispered slanders. Maybe he would ask him what was going on?

The girl, on the other hand, seemed to be completely oblivious to all the back and forth loathing going on between Zebodah and the humans.

Then again, Nadia could've been faking or ignoring it; she had done things like that before. In the face of spiteful treatment, she had the habit of either ignoring it or keep smiling. The kid was a very stubborn one; very willful, and would usually put on a brave front and keep her feelings bottled up. Though rare, on more than one occasion Nadia had eventually cracked and would show some outburst of emotion, such as the case with Lachlan and the punching of his face.

While Kalrosh could relate to bottling feelings, it was very concerning to Mial and him slightly as well. It may have been a defense mechanism, but that didn't make the behavior healthy. Doing that never ended well for anyone. Besides, Nadia was a child; eleven-year-olds shouldn't have to keep such things to themselves. Any normal kid of that age should be able to express themself freely…unfortunately; Nadia was not a normal little girl.

For a brief moment, Kalrosh wondered what it would be like to be a crossbreed, and immediately came to the conclusion that it would be exhausting. His hand tightened once more around Nadia's smaller one as a brief pang of pity went through his chest. There were problems she faced that he would never understand…

A slight tug on Kalrosh's hand grabbed his attention as the girl tried to run off and began to drag him along with her.

"Look, there it is! We're here!" She pulled at his hand as their destination came more and more into view. Silmyr Lake somehow managed to sparkle and glisten even with Terokkar Forest's perpetually overcast sky. While the shore had less grass than the rest of the surrounding forest, the rich looking soil mad it look appealing, "C'mon, let's go."

The orc could only watch in subtle amusement as Nadia's hand slipped out of his and she made a break for the shoreline. On the way, she bumped into Zebodah as she tried to dodge past him. The troll, who had been casually loping along, now stumbled and nearly fell over from the sudden jolt at his side.

"What the – Nadia!" The shaman managed to right himself before falling over as the group of humans behind everyone began to snicker to themselves at the spectacle. He cast a glare at them before shouting ahead at the girl who had already covered the distance to the edge of the lake, "Slow down, girly! Da shore be slick, ya gonna –."

Everyone could only watch helplessly as Nadia's feet suddenly flew out from under her. With a startled yelp, she face planted into the mud and shallow puddles that bordered the water. It was absolutely silent; no one knew what to do, so they just watched to see what would happen next.

She didn't move for the longest time, and for one horrible moment Kalrosh thought she was hurt. Then, Nadia sprung up suddenly, flailing mud everywhere as she spun back around to the group. From head to toe, the girl's entire front was covered in wet dirt, but she was beaming and waving at them animatedly with both hands.

"Look, even the mud feels great! Now hurry it up, would you!"

Riskkaf was the first to break out into a series of cackles, followed by Barmy and Lockie's laughter, and then everyone else. Zebodah just shook his head and rolled his eyes, but even the corners of his mouth were twitching, "Dis gonna be a long day…"

* * *

Once camp had been set up and Nadia cleaned up (which actually took longer than setting up camp), the party began to work on their assigned duties. The Peacekeepers and Vindicators set up a perimeter around the campsite and lake then took turns keeping watch and unloading supplies. The "Alliance" group, as Kalrosh decided to call them, had set up furthest away from everyone else and was checking their ammunition and weapons as they readied for the hunt.

And Kalrosh's group…well, they were about to decide who was first on Nadia Watch. They had already finished unpacking and were about to begin with either fishing or hunting, when Barmy brought up the question of who would watch the kid.

After much deliberation and bartering, it was decided that it would be best for Nadia to remain at the campsite and fish with the remaining members than to go traipsing into the woods where no one could really keep an eye on her.

Meaning, Nadia was officially under the care of Zebodah and Kalrosh for the time being.

Kalrosh honestly preferred it this way. It's not that he didn't trust the others, he just knew that the likelihood of Nadia losing a finger or however many inches of her hair were greatly decreased when not in the hands of Riskkaf, Binky, and the dwarves.

While Zebodah didn't look particularly pleased, he hadn't said anything yet and was busy baiting the hook of his own fishing rod. The troll seemed to be taking a neutral stance on the whole thing, choosing to say and do nothing as opposed to something else.

And that was pretty much how things were throughout the camp. The Sha'tar were busy with their own matters, as well as the Alliance group. Kalrosh was thankful that they hadn't taken any measures against the girl and Zebodah yet, though was keeping an eye on them just in case.

He was currently trying to help Nadia bait and cast one of the smaller rods so that he could begin teaching her how to fish. It was clear that she had never done anything like this before; her movements were awkward and a little forced, but she seemed eager to try nonetheless. After a few more untangled knots and pokes to the fingers, Nadia finally managed to cast her line into the water. She was grinning widely at her accomplishment, however small it may have been.

From his lounging position on some of the rocks, Zebodah had watched the whole thing with little real interest. He had long since cast his line and was bored now with nothing else to do. The shaman supposed, as he leaned back and closed his eyes with the fishing rod held between his crossed legs, he could give Nadia credit for that: things were always less boring with her around.

"Alright," Kalrosh chuckled as he patted the girl on the head, "looks like you've finally got it."

"Now what?" Nadia rocked back and forth on her feet with the rod grasped tightly in her hands.

"Now, we wait. The fish will bite in due time," he turned to go and start a fire back at the campsite, but Nadia remained right where she was.

"Okay."

The orc had expected the child to plant the fishing rod firmly in the ground like he had showed her and then follow him, but for some reason her feet remained planted, "You may leave that in the ground and then come back when the fish bite, if you like."

"I'm good," she replied without so much as turning around.

Kalrosh heard Zebodah snort from his perch and craned his neck to give the troll a withering stare. The shaman's eyes were still closed, though there was a wry smirk playing on his lips. The orc opened his mouth to reprimand his comrade, but a sudden commotion toward the forest caught his attention.

"Hey! Kalrosh! Can you give us a hand over here?"

Binky suddenly came flying out of the underbrush with leaves and twigs sticking out of her bright green hair. She had a large smile on her face, so at least there was nothing terrible happening. The orc looked down at the gnome as she came to a sliding halt in front of him, "What is it, Binky?"

"We landed a huge basilisk down near the road! Barmy took aim and was just like – BAM – nailed it right between the eyes! It was awesome! Anyway, it's really heavy and we need help carrying it."

Kalrosh sighed and glanced back at Nadia and Zebodah. The both of them definitely weren't going anywhere anytime soon, so he supposed it would be alright if he stepped away for a moment…

* * *

A good half-hour had passed when Nadia felt a sharp jerk on her pole. Adrenaline coursed through her immediately and she smiled: standing there absolutely still waiting for good things to happen had paid off!

Another tug from whatever it was she had caught was so forceful that tit almost made her fall into the water. She grunted as she pulled back with all her strength, but her feet moved a bit further toward the water anyway. Nadia looked back towards where Kalrosh had been standing, only to find him gone. Her head whipped back and forth as she tried to find him, and she began to panic more as her catch pulled hard again, causing her feet to inch slowly to the lake.

"Help," the girl managed to hiss to no one in particular as she planted her feet more firmly in the ground. It didn't help at all, and Nadia was beginning to panic.

That is, until a large, three-fingered, green hand reached around from behind her and grasped the fishing pole tightly around her own. The other, she assumed, wrapped around her waist, effectively lifting her a few inches off the ground.

"Honestly, girly. You wanna fall in?" Zebodah steadily walked backwards, pulling the stunned kid and her fishing pole back with him. After walking back enough, he lurched the hand holding the pole, finally reeling the rather large fish that Nadia had caught.

The troll dropped the girl back onto the ground and let go of the rod, now using his free hands to pull the catch out of the water and take the hook out of its mouth. Nadia held the fishing pole limply in her hands as she gaped with wide eyes at the taller being.

"What?" He questioned when he realized that she was staring at him. When she gave him a dazed blink in response, Zebodah sighed and turned to begin walking towards the baskets where they would store all things caught in the lake, only to freeze when he saw that Kalrosh had returned and was staring at him too. "What?" he questioned again, getting more defensive this time.

"Nothing," the orc muttered, "I'm just glad I was here to see Nadia's first catch."

There was something else in that statement, something that Zebodah knew was meant for him. He growled and pointed a finger at his peer, "You didn't see nothin'."

Kalrosh just nodded as the troll slinked past him and back to their camp as if nothing had happened. Nadia's facial expression suddenly changed from one of shock to one of excitement as she called out to the shaman, "Thank you, Zebodah!"

The troll didn't look back to acknowledge her and waved a hand dismissively over his shoulder. Nadia turned her smile to Kalrosh as she raised the fishing rod triumphantly over her head.

"Did you see that, Kalrosh? I did it!"

The orc scratched his head quizzically, "I did, Nadia. And I think I saw something else too…"

* * *

 _ **Ahh, finally! I didn't enjoy writing this one as much as the others, which is why it feels really rushed. Sorry if it's bad, but the next one is going to be the best, I promise!**_

 _ **Anyway, remember to review/follow and vote in the new pole. See you soon!**_


	9. Chapter 9: Snakes & Ladders - Part 4

Disclaimer: I do not own anything WoW or Blizzard, only my own stuff, like Nadia.

 _ **Hello, all! I hope things are going well for you and that you enjoyed the last chapter. I**_ _ **'m**_ _ **trying really hard to update more, especially since the upcoming weeks are going to be pretty low-key with a bit more free time than usual. Hopefully, doing this will get more people interested and get more followers and reviews.**_

 _ **Also, I have reached OVER 1,000 VIEWS! That is so much better that I expected to do! Thanks to everyone for their interest and patronage when you come back and check out new chapters, I really appreciate it! Especially Bohmzawe, who has been a very faithful and much appreciated constant reviewer!**_

 _ **Well, let's go ahead and get started. Trust me: this chapter is worth the read.**_

 _ **Enjoy**_

* * *

Chapter 9: Snakes and Ladders – Part 4

"You are behaving differently."

Zebodah had to twist his body around from his lying position just to make eye contact with the person who was trying to talk to him. It was Kalrosh, and the orc was looking at him with the strangest expression on his face. From the dim light from the dying embers of fire, the troll could make out his furrowed brows and tight jaw. How Kalrosh had known that he was still awake, Zebodah had no idea.

"Different how, mon?" he questioned cautiously, not quite sure where this conversation was going. His voice was barely above a whisper as to not wake anyone from their slumber.

All the others were wrapped in blankets and lying on mats similar to the one he was on. They were a bit further away from the fire than he was, choosing to get their warmth from each other than the now dying element. Zebodah could feel the last of the heat from the pit only barely, and wondered just how long it had been since he had relit it for the second time.

It had been a good many hours since they all had gone to sleep, he supposed. A few of the Sha'tar had taken watch around the same time everyone decided to call it a day. The rest were sleeping near the perimeter of the camp, forming a circle around the party that separated them from the forest. The human (read: bastard) group was situated furthest away out of everyone, seeming to isolate themselves on purpose.

His own group, the only one that mattered really, slept across from him on the other side of the fire. Unlike the Sha'tar with their orderly set up or the humans and their purposeful remoteness, they slept with a certain randomness that didn't surprise Zebodah.

Barmy and Lockie slept back to back, as though guarding each other, appearing even more like the brothers they weren't. Had their appearances not been so different, anyone would have guessed that they were related. Binky slept face down on her mat, and if it wasn't for her heavy breathing that made her chest rise up and down steadily, the troll could have mistaken her for dead. Riskkaf slept on his back, absolutely still with his hands folded across his chest as he snored lightly. The position, Zebodah thought, as well as some _thing_ on his face that the arakkoa had called a 'sleep mask' (whatever that was), made his friend look like the diva that he was, even in his sleep.

Nadia, ironically, slept with the most normality out of everyone. The girl lay peacefully on her side, curled up tight into a ball with the blanket pulled all the way up to her nose. The position reminded him of the jungle cats of Stranglethorn, who would lie in the same way whenever they slumbered beneath the cool shade of the trees.

Nostalgia throbbed in Zebodah's chest like some type of old battle wound. Even when she wasn't doing anything at all, Nadia still managed to cause him some form of pain. He wanted to do nothing more than fall asleep right then and there to spare himself these emotions.

But that was hard to do when the most stubborn orc Zebodah knew was still regarding him with unwavering eyes.

"I am not sure," Kalrosh continued as he gave the troll another onceover, "just…different. Less angry, perhaps?"

"Ya say dat like it be a bad ting," the troll rolled back over onto his side to avoid eye contact, "an' what makes think all dis anyway?"

Zebodah could hear Kalrosh's footsteps on the soft grass as the orc walked around to the other side of the troll to meet his gaze once again. The shaman held his friend's stare as he bent down on one knee as if to whisper something to the Darkspear.

"I saw the way you helped Nadia earlier today," he stated in a hushed tone.

The troll propped himself up on an elbow so quickly that Kalrosh stood up straight once more in surprise as the shaman glared at him and hissed, "I told ya: you didn't see anything."

Kalrosh realized immediately that he had pushed the wrong buttons, "Of course. I only wanted to say that I thought what you… _didn't_ do was nice and that –"

" _Nice_? I ain't _nice_ , mon."

"Then what are you, Zebodah?" The orc's gaze became more curious, "Surely you didn't help the girl for no reason at all."

The troll froze. _Why had he helped her?_ It was a spur of the moment decision yes, but surely there was some reason for his actions. A year ago, hell, a few weeks ago he probably would have done nothing, or at least scolded the kid a lot more. Kalrosh was right; he was behaving differently. _So what had changed?_

Zebodah ran a hand over his face and let himself fall back onto his side, "I'm just…tired, mon. I just be tired."

"Tired?"

"Ya, tired. An' you wanna know what I be tired of?" The troll sat up and looked Kalrosh right in the eye, "I be tired of Outland, tired of doin' nothin with my life, tired o' drinking, and tired of feelin' sorry for myself! But most of all…"

The orc watched as Zebodah sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose as though he had a headache, "I be tired o' being so angry all da time."

"Angry at what?" The older Mag'har bent down on one knee to be at eye level with his friend. Had the orc known that the troll had really felt this way earlier, perhaps he could have helped him in some way sooner.

"I dunno, a lot of tings I guess, bein' stuck out here for one." Zebodah flopped back down onto his mat, feeling more exhausted than before, "I guess I be mad at myself most o' da time, mon, for gettin' myself into dis mess in da first place."

Kalrosh's brows knit together in confusion, "I do not understand."

"I didn't expect ya to. Dat be my secret ta keep an' mine alone. I'll tell my story to ya one day, and mebbeh da others. But not today, my soul ain't ready."

"I…understand." And he did, for Kalrosh had his own secrets too, ones that would change his relationships for the worse with everyone he held dear were they to ever be told. He was sure, without a shadow of a doubt, that his secrets were far worse that the troll's. If Zebodah wanted to take his secret to the grave, then who was he to judge? While he had always been curious how a person from beyond the Dark Portal had gotten to Outland long after it had closed, maybe that information wasn't for him to know.

The orc was broken out of his thoughts when he heard an uncharacteristic snicker come from Zebodah. The troll had a lopsided smirk on his lips and his shoulders were shaking from suppressed laughter as he gave Kalrosh a sideways look, "An', sometimes, I be really mad at Riskkaf."

"Aren't we all at some point," he couldn't help but chuckle himself and join in on the Darkspear's amusement, "I swear on the spirits, that man causes trouble for a living."

The laughter went on for a few more moments before finally fading out into the night. Kalrosh let out a satisfied sigh and looked over Zebodah once more. He appeared calmer now, less tense, and still had the slight grin on his face. Now seemed like a good time to ask the question that had been plaguing his mind ever since fishing…

"And Nadia? Are you mad at Nadia?"

Zebodah became rigid immediately and Kalrosh was afraid that the troll had closed himself off emotionally once again. Like the child, the shaman would keep things to himself until the point of boiling over. This was the first time in years that the orc had seen such expression from his friend. Finally, Zebodah let out a long sigh and ran his fingers through his light orange hair.

"Nah, mon, not mad. I ain't ever been _mad_ at da girl. Jus'…sad, I think."

"Sad?"

"Ya…every time I see da child, I canna help but think o' her motha. Da girly be so much like Van…" The troll looked away from Kalrosh and out into the darkness of the forest, "Ahhh, loa…I miss Vana'jia…"

The Mag'har was silent as he listened to Zebodah trail off and didn't speak as to give him a moment to continue if he needed to.

"An' it ain't just because of da sex or anythin' like dat; Van was always dere for me. She was kind an' caring. And she always listened ta me…ain't no one ever listened ta me before. Except you now, Kalrosh, I guess." The troll rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, as if embarrassed to admit all this, "I suppose I just be wanting all dis pain ta go away, den maybe I can stop bein' so angry…

It was quiet for a few seconds before Kalrosh slowly placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. He grappled for the right words to say and finally knew what it was that he had to say.

"When you lose someone who is dear to you, the pain never really goes away. After enough time has passed, it will fade, but never is it truly gone." The old orc gave Zebodah's shoulder a slight squeeze, "However, if you try hard enough you can find joy and love in this life that will make you forget about the pain for however long you hold onto the things that bring you happiness. Only then will the ache fade to almost nothing."

Kalrosh paused and gazed over to where Nadia still slept soundly. She had not moved at all during the time they had been speaking, the only motions being the steady rising and falling of her small chest. All the fires in the camp had completely gone out by now, and the last embers of Zebodah's finally sparked a few last times before dying. Darkness settled over the campground, the only thing left to illuminate anyone's vision being the eerie glowing crystals of various sizes at the bases of the trees.

"I am certain," the old orc started while standing up and beginning to head off. Zebodah could barely make him out in the darkness now, as the night had now reduced Kalrosh's retreating form to one of shadows, "that if I can find some joy in after all this time, and with however much time I have left in this world, you can as well."

The orc kept walking in the direction of his sleeping spot and eventually faded into the darkness. Zebodah lay back down onto his mat as sleep began to override all his senses. He could wonder what exactly Kalrosh had meant tomorrow. He could wonder tomorrow…

* * *

It was still nightfall when Zebodah suddenly awoke in a cold sweat. His body lurched forward with a gasp, and the next thing he knew he was sitting up and struggling to breathe.

It felt as though someone had dumped cold water on him and crushed his throat with their heel. The troll began coughing when his throat constricted tightly and looked wildly around in a dazed shock.

He was surprised to find that everyone else was still sound asleep. Riskkaf and the dwarves were still in their same places, Binky had moved onto her side with her arms and legs flailed about in all sorts of positions, Kalrosh slept soundly from what he could make out in the darkness, and Nadia was…

Gone.

 _Oh no._

Zebodah untangled himself from his blanket and stumbled over to where the girl had once been sleeping. All her things were still in their places, only her mat was empty and her blanket tossed aside and forgotten a good foot away from where she had slept.

He placed a hand onto the mat and found that it was still warm, meaning that she hadn't been gone for very long.

"Nadia," he called out in a low hiss, "where are ya?" The troll stood up to his full height and craned his neck in multiple directions, trying to find some trace of the girl only to come up empty…except for a rather obvious and suspicious looking hole in the underbrush. It looked as though someone had broken all the wigs and branches of the bushes to make a brand new path in to the forest.

A groan vibrated within Zebodah's throat before he took off down the pathway. He had no idea where it would lead him, or even if Nadia would be at the end, but this was probably the best chance he had of finding her. There was only one problem…

This path had 'weird' written all over it. The broken off branches were so precise and clean that the neatness of it all was disturbing and unnatural. The terocones scattered about the trail glowed lighter than any of the others that shone dimly in the rest of the thickets. Even the moon was brighter…

The further down Zebodah went, the more he lost track of time and the quieter the woods got, and the troll got the feeling as though he were being watched. Almost as if all life in the forest had gone quiet and was now watching him…

"Damn it, Nadia," the Darkspear ground out between clenched teeth when he reached a dead end. The trail had stopped, leading him to a wall of thick vines and other plant life instead of the girl, "Where did ya go?"

He was about to go back and alert the others of their missing charge, when light and wisplike, girlish laughter floated from the other side of the vines. The troll froze, unsure if he had actually heard anything. Then, the laughter rang out again, this time _much_ louder and a lot more like Nadia's. Zebodah had heard her glee enough times to recognize it anywhere…

The shaman groaned and began to make his way through the wall as best he could to the other side where the laughter had come from. Pure darkness once again enveloped his vision, and the troll hissed when a particularly sharp branch put a rather deep cut through the skin of his shoulder. Thankfully, he could see patched of light from the other side after a few more steps.

"Nadia, I swear by da loa, ya bettah be usin' da bathroom –"

Zebodah didn't get to say much else when his foot caught on an unearthed tree root, and he fell out of the forest and burst into a clearing with a rather impressive face plant.

A few seconds passed before a string of profane (and muffled) curses rang out into the night before the shaman picked himself up and brushed himself off. When the last of the grass had been cleared from his face, he took a moment to take in his surroundings.

The glade was devoid of any plant life, except for luscious, long grass and trees that formed a circle around him. It was very windy, and the meadow swirled in all directions with the breeze.

Zebodah would have normally been put at ease by such a tranquil place, except Nadia was sitting directly in the middle of the field with a dreamy look on her face. She sat with her knees pulled up to her chest, and her wild hair had come loose from its tie. It wafted around her face and in the wind like some form of blue-black smoke. The troll opened his mouth to call out to her, but another voice beat him to it.

" _Now, dat wasn't a very graceful entrance, was it? What do ya think, my precioussss?"_

The girl hummed and shook her head slowly back and forth in response to the voice that Zebodah knew was not just in his head anymore.

" _I'm glad dat you agree, my dear,"_ the hissing voice continued, _"he really could 'ave done a bettah job. Why don't ya try again, Zebodah?"_

The green troll snarled and clenched his fists while looking around frantically for the source of the voice. Mocking laughter drifted slowly through the air and made the Darkspear's spine go cold.

" _Don't make dat face, shaman, it ain't pretteh. Come now, smile; ain't ya happy ta see me?"_ There was movement on the other side of the clearing…and the largest snake Zebodah had ever laid eyes on slithered out of the forest.

It was as thick as Nadia's torso and _at least_ four times his own height. The creature's coloring was bizarre: purple and black with scales that glistened green in the light. And its eyes…its eyes were a petrifying green that literally froze Zebodah in place. He could also feel a strangely familiar and strong power radiating from the reptile.

The closer it got to the girl, the more he tried to shake himself free of whatever spell the snake was using to hold him in place. He may have had no idea what was going on, but he had a feeling that whatever the creature's intention toward Nadia was couldn't be anything good. Only then Zebodah got even more lost…

The snake's imposing form began to shift under the moonlight as it crept closer to the child. Painfully slow, like some kind of creeping poison, it began to look more humanoid…and then more troll.

And then before Zebodah knew it, another troll nearly three feet taller that he was stood crouched behind Nadia. He had dangerous purple-black skin and was adorned in clothes that were normal of his kind, but more decadent and lavish than any king's. A number or talismans and ornaments were strung across his neck and around his wrists, while rings nearly covered every inch of his fingers.

" _Ahhh, dat's bettah."_ The purple troll stretched to his full height and rolled his shoulders in front of a dumbfounded Zebodah, _"I ssssuppose dat's enough fun an' games, eh mon? After all, I be da one dat led ya here."_

With a smirk and mischievous gleam in his green eyes, he crouched down in place once more and placed a large hand firmly on Nadia's shoulder.

" _Now,"_ Damballa began with a sly hiss as he tightened his grip ever so slightly on the girl, " _let us be gettin' on ta businessss, ssssshall we?"_

* * *

 _ **Aaand, all done! Hope you all liked it!**_

 _ **Check back soon for more, I'll do my best to have it up by Saturday or Sunday!**_

 _ **Also, remember to vote and review!**_

 _ **Thanks!**_


	10. Chapter 10: The Serpent King

Disclaimer: I do not own anything WoW or Blizzard, only my own stuff, like Nadia.

 _ **Skadoosh! Happy Wednesday and second of December! Another chapter! It's good to see you all once again, I'm very glad that the response to the last chapter was very positive, and hope you all enjoy this one as much as the last. This one is kind of short, but that was intentional as I wanted to go ahead and get this up and running as it is a turning point in the story.**_

 _ **Good news and bad news from me, sadly.**_

 _ **Good news is that**_ _ **The Ties That Bind**_ _ **has reached over 500 views and over 200 visitors in November alone! I owe a lot to you all for being so patient and supportive!**_

 _ **Bad news: finals are coming up so that means less time to post on my end since I have to study and whatnot.**_

 _ **But after that, I'll be done with my first semester and pretty bored for about a month on Christmas vacation. So expect this post, then a dry season, then a monsoon to say the least.**_

 _ **Please remember to vote as soon as possible in the poll that's up so that I might get started on the new story depending on the poll status come December 14**_ _ **th**_ _ **.**_

 _ **Also, I have a Tumblr page set up for this story universe and all things WoW, so go follow to see posts regarding this story like character bios, short excerpts, I'll answer questions, character commissions (there's the very first one coming soon of Zebodah), and more! The link is in my Bio and instructions are at the end of the chapter as well as here: type in nadiaravenscroft (period) tumblr (period) com (slash).**_

 _ **Feel free to ask characters questions or any questions about the story!**_

 _ **Anyway, that's enough from me, now onto the show!**_

* * *

Chapter 10: The Serpent King

Had Vana'jia still been alive, she probably would've beaten Zebodah up by now for somehow getting her one and only daughter mixed up in the schemes of one of the most powerful and cunning loa in existence.

And as Zebodah stood there staring up at Dambala with his jaw slack, he seriously considered beating himself up too. How, in the name of the spirits and ancestors, had he gotten himself into a mess like this?

" _Don'cha tink it be a little sssselfish ta only be worryin' 'bout yourself mon?"_

The loa moved his hand from Nadia's shoulder to her head and spun one of her wild curls between clawed fingered. The girl remained motionless as the deity continued to run his fingers through her hair, the faraway look still on her face. Upon closer inspection, Zebodah saw that her eyes looked empty, which was strange for Nadia. It was then that the shaman realized the loa had her under some sort of spell.

The troll's fingers curled until his claws dug painfully into his palms. He felt his face twist into a scowl and he snarled at Dambala for the unnecessary and mocking physical contact with Nadia. Which was a very stupid thing to do, he realized quickly, because the loa's already reptile-like grin became much larger in response as he began to twirl even more of her hair.

" _Ah, ssso ya ain't totally selfish, it seems."_ He began to play with the most rebellious of Nadia's curls that rested right between her eyes, _"dat be good ta know, for da reason I 'ave come requires ya…cooperation."_

This was bad. The troll knew enough that Dambala probably wasn't there for a visit, but now it seemed that the deity had an agenda. Which yet again raised the question as to what the loa could possibly want with the both of them. But as much as Zebodah wanted to let loose and grab the girl and run, he knew that he wouldn't get very far and would end up dooming them both. If the shaman wanted to get out of this alive, he would have to play along and be as respectful as possible.

With gritted teeth, the shaman knelt down on one knee with his head dipped down towards the loa, which was a good thing since Zebodah did not see Dambala's smile became even slyer, "I be ready ta serve da loa in any way."

Something flashed in Dambala's eyes as the motion of his fingers through Nadia's hair came to an abrupt halt. With that slimy grin still in place, he sniffed and let the girl's locks fall out of his fingers as his attention became solely focused on the Darkspear, " _Really, mon? Are ya really?"_

There was something that set of warning bells in his tone, but Zebodah going. He glanced up just enough to look the loa right in his green eyes, "Ya, for dey have been present in dese tryin' times. But for what purpose could da loa possible need me?"

The air shifted immediately, and the troll could not tell if the shiver that went down his spine was because of the sudden chill or the way Dambala's smile slowly left his face.

" _For what purpose indeed, shaman. For what purpose indeed…"_ The loa brought his head down next to Nadia's ear, keeping his eyes locked with Zebodah's the whole time. The child didn't even flinch as he hissed into her ear, _"Sssleep now, little one. Dis shaman an' I need ta have a chat…"_

The Darkspear watched with muted horror as Nadia's eyelids fluttered shut and she began to fall to the side. Her body slumped onto the soft grass without a sound, as every muscle in her form seemed to loosen and relax. She did not move again save for the random tendrils of hair that were being teased and pulled by the heavy breeze.

Zebodah would have thought her no longer alive were it not for the barely noticeable yet steady rising and falling of her chest.

The troll got up, took a step forward, and reached out towards the girl without realizing what he was doing, "What are ya –."

" _Quiet."_

Whatever good will that may have been present between the troll and the loa was gone now. Dambala oily smile had been replaced with a glower and his lips were pulled back slightly over sharp teeth and his tusks. Zebodah froze once more, and he could not tell if it was from the loa's power over him or from fear.

" _You,"_ the loa stepped over Nadia's sleeping form without so much as giving her a second look, his green eyes boring into the shaman the whole time, _"owe me a debt."_

If Zebodah could have taken a step back or recoiled in some way he would have, "What?"

" _I said quiet."_ Dambala's eyes flashed again and Zebodah's esophagus constricted to the point he was nearly choking. A few gasping breaths and sounds managed to surge through his throat as he grasped at his neck in panic, and the loa seemed to find amusement from this, _"Oh, when will ya learn, sssshaman? You ain't gonna forget again, are ya? I would hate ta have ta show ya disssscipline twice over."_

The troll wisely kept his mouth shut as he nodded and continued to massage his throat, keeping his eyes downcast the whole time.

" _Now, I be knowin' dat you know what debt I be talkin' about. Did ya really tink I was gonna let sssomethin' like dat sssslide, hmm?"_ Zebodah shook his head back and forth quickly, still avoiding eye contact with the loa, _"Good. Let us be gettin' on ta business den."_

The Darkspear relaxed significantly when Dambala turned around and loped back over to stand behind Nadia. His moment of calm disappeared when the loa began to run his fingers through the child's hair again, going as far as to occasionally stroke her face.

" _It be amazin', yesss? Da tings my wives can accomplish whey dey work together: dey be quite proud. And so be I."_ His eyes never left Zebodah as he twisted one of her curls around a finger, _"Ya look confused, mon. Tell me why."_

Zebodah felt his throat loosen, as if the invisible hand that was gripping and clawing at it had finally let go, and he desperately gasped for air, "I…don' understand."

Dambala blinked once. Twice. Then he smiled that snake-like grin again, _"Oh…oh ho…you don' know…do ya?"_ One of the loa's knuckles brushed slowly back and forth over Nadia's cheek as she slept on, and his smile grew when the shaman visibly tensed, _"My, my, dis is gettin' good."_

The troll did not reply. The deity's hand was far too close to the girl's face to risk speaking and angering him again. However, it was impossible to deny that his suspicion and uneasiness over everything that was happening so far. What did the wives of Dambala have anything to do with this?

" _What? Did ya sssseriously tink dat dis little one was conceived without any help at all? Ah nah, mon. Lots o' sacrifices and prayers and deals went into makin' dis one…Yes, lots o' dealssss indeed."_ He stopped stroking Nadia's cheek long enough to run his thumb lightly over her lips, _"For 11 years, Vana'jia did everything an' more for a babe…and I musssst be sayin', da results ain't bad."_

The breeze picked up, tossing Nadia's hair around even more than before, and mimicked the rise in tension between the loa and the Darkspear troll. Not that Zebodah noticed in the slightest. His own thoughts were raging, wrestling with what he thought he knew and what bits and pieces of information were only just now coming into light.

He had known, from the very beginning, that there was something strange about Nadia. He had known that there was no way the girl could have been conceived and birthed naturally. He had known that there was a reason the loa liked to watch and whisper whenever she played or laughed or simply lived.

But at the same time there was so much he did not know.

Dambala only revealed what he wanted to reveal, making exceptions for no one as one of the most cunning of all the loa. He left far more questions than answers. One of those questions being what he could possibly want with Nadia.

" _I bet ya still be wonderin' why I be payin' ya a visit,"_ Dambala continued without a care for Zebodah's inner turmoil, _"well, I'm here only as a messenger dissss time…for my wives. Ya see, dose two ain't ever worked together or gotten along like dis before, but only when it be concernin' ya girly. It was sad when her motha went under da care of Bwonsamdi, but fo' some reason dey saw hope for her in you. Only now, dey be very disappointed wit ya. And when dey be disappointed, so be I."_

Dambala stared at him impatiently as he continued to twist and spring Nadia's curls and waves, and Zebodah felt stupid when he finally realized that the loa was giving him permission to speak, "I…wish to correct any wrong I may have done against Ayida or Erzulie."

" _Hmph,"_ the Loa of Shadow's fingers had wandered their way back to the curl between Nadia's eyes. He seemed to be particularly fond of that one, _"You know, dey didn't have dis problem wit ya girlfriend. She paid her debts. Even in death, sssshe still pays her debts. It ain't fair, really, dat we gotta put up wit_ _ **you**_ _now. Which is why I'm gonna make dis easier for everyone, mosssstly me, by takin' out two Murlocs wit one arrow…"_

There was a brief pause as Dambala chuckled and ran his tongue over his teeth, and Zebodah had to resist the physical urge to snarl. Hot, fresh anger was surging through him. After all this time, after all these years of silence and unanswered prayers, the loa chose **now** to bring up his impending debt? It was wrong, totally and absolutely wrong, especially since it was technically Dambala's power that got his trapped in Outland in the first place!

" _Hah, I can see ya anger, an' dat's fine. Yeah, ya didn't exactly get what ya wanted out o' our deal, but why should dat matter to me? I provide da meansssss, not da endssss. Believe what'chu want, but da only person ta blame is yaself, and ya still gotta pay up. I understand, though, dat bein' out here makes coverin' ya debt difficult. But my patience be runnin out…so we gonna do ssssomethin' different… My wives want da girly ta have a parent, a_ _ **troll**_ _parent, and I want_ _ **you**_ _ta pay what you owe me one way o' anotha. Well, since_ _ **you**_ _be a_ _ **troll**_ _, here's what we gonna do…"_

Something clicked in the back of Zebodah's mind, and a horrible sense of foreboding came right after it. _No, oh please, no…_

Dambala stopped petting the child and pointed a clawed finger right at the Darkspear, _"You are Nadia's new guardian, somethin' ya shoulda been from da beginning. Dis is how ya gonna make my wives happy, dis is how ya gonna make it up ta da girly, and_ _ **dis**_ _is how ya gonna pay off ya debt to me. I don' care if lookin' at her makes ya feel any kinda bad way: deal wit it."_ The loa tilted his chin up and glared even more condescendingly at the other troll, _"An' ya bettah do a good job 'cause dis be ya last chance; she practically be ya daughter now. Act like it. Do we understand each otha?"_

"…Ya, I understand," the troll finally replied after much silence as he ran a hand over his face, "For how long – "

" _Until I say so,"_ Dambala interrupted harshly. He scowled at Zebodah for a minute longer before casting his eyes downward. The loa's expression softened instantly as his eyes roamed over Nadia's face and his knuckle brushed slowly over he cheek, _"an don' even tink about tryin' to weasel ya way around dat. If ya treat her any less den da way I be telling ya to, I'll remind ya just what happens when ya cross a loa."_

Zebodah nodded solemnly as Dambala stood up and turned around towards the way he had come from. As he sauntered away from the troll and Nadia, his form began to meld into the shadows of the night.

" _Remember: if Nadia,_ _ **my**_ _Nadia, gets so much as a hangnail because of ya…I'll be back. So be careful, I would hate to have to take 'er away due to you and ya friends incompetence."_

* * *

 _ **That's a wrap! Remember to check out the tumblr, some artwork is already up! See you soon!**_


	11. Chapter 11: Homecoming

Disclaimer: I do not own anything WoW or Blizzard, but I wouldn't mind it if I did.

 _ **Hello everyone! First off, let me just say Happy New Year! I have officially been on break for a good while now, and while I haven't updated nearly enough, I'll try to post updates as much as humanly possible. I just have a few important things to say before we start with the story.**_

 _ **I apologize first for the shortness of this chapter, but I really just wanted to get something out there for you all as well as help with plot.**_

 _ **This story will have only a few more chapters left, maybe three or so, before moving on to book two. I will warn readers now, it will be M rated, and much darker and more serious than this one, but it's for the sake of character and story development. If that is not for you, don't worry; I will post in the notes a warning for each chapter so you can skip around if necessary.**_

 _ **If you have a chance, check out/follow my tumblr page for this story universe and others! The link is on my profile page, just copy and paste into the search bar. We've got commissions of Nadia and Zebodah up and open for all to look at! For those of you who don't like or use Tumblr, I will have links posted in my profile page to the art specifically.**_

 _ **Also, I kept the poll open, so remember to vote in it before January 31st if you can! I'd really appreciate it!**_

 _ **A big thank you to**_ _ **Bohmzawe**_ _ **,**_ _ **Ihsan997**_ _ **,**_ _ **vtellez009**_ _ **, and**_ _ **SoulVoid87**_ _ **for the favorites/follows/reviews! I appreciate it more than you know!**_

 _ **Lastly, I hope you guys enjoy Chapter 11!**_

 _ **Read on!**_

* * *

Chapter 11: Homecoming

* * *

The groups' time in Terokkar forest was up, and the three combined parties were heading back to Shattrath City with bursting supplies nearly falling from atop their various elekks. By the time the sun was setting, the party had already made it to the main road and the high walls of the city were already in sight. Perhaps it was because of the fantastic view that was highlighted by the warm orange glow of the evening, or because of the prospect of soon being amongst friends and family, but almost everyone was in high spirits in light of their success… _almost_ everyone.

Nearly a full day had passed since what had happened with Dambala, and a certain troll was still on edge.

He had managed to carry Nadia back to the camp after the loa had left without her waking up, and she slept like a baby until morning. Oh, he wished he had been as fortunate. The only amount of sleep he had gotten up till now had been the few restless hours he'd gotten in before his entire life changed.

It didn't help that his body was starting to ache for a drink, either. Only two days had gone by since he'd had one, but every fiber of his being tingled with that familiar _need_ for alcohol…

"Zebodah…. Hey, Zebodah?"

The troll started and glanced to his side, "Eh?"

"I just asked if you were going to be staying the night at Mial's with the rest of us. Didn't you hear me?"

"Huh? Oh, um, I don' know…mebbeh…yeah."

"Uh, okay, alright then."

Zebodah nodded once and then increased his pace to get away from the now very suspicious arakkoa. He could feel Riskkaf's eyes boring holes into the back of his skull, but he tried not to let it show that it bothered him as he kept walking further and further away up toward the front of the convoy.

The arakkoa scratched his head as he continued watching the troll's fleeing form until it ducked between two elekk and was no longer in sight, "Was it something I said?"

"Knowing you, maybe; though it really could be anything at this point."

Riskkaf jumped, "Squawk! When did you get there? Don't scare me like that! If you want to surprise me, I prefer flowers and sweets!"

Kalrosh, who had sidled up next to the arakkoa without him realizing it, stared ahead at the spot where Zebodah had disappeared, "You see it too, though, right? That there is something wrong with him."

"With who? Zebodah? Well, of course I do, the man wears his emotions on his sleeve. He's trying to hide it though; it's kind of cute really –. "

"Focus, Riskkaf." The orc cast a quick glance at his friend, "What do you think it is that's bothering him?"

"Beats me; Zebodah may not be good at acting like he's fine, but he sure as hell can hide _the cause_."

"Yes, I suppose you're right… Should we ask what is wrong?"

"Eh, if you want to, be my guest."

Kalrosh turned his head enough to give the arakkoa a head-on, withering glare, "You know, for someone who loves to meddle in everyone's business, you sure don't like to get directly involved."

The magic wielder chuckled, "I don't do 'direct' very well."

Even those at the very front of the caravan could hear Kalrosh's exasperated groan and the cackling from Riskkaf that followed.

* * *

Mial straightened the chairs at one of the outside tables for what was most likely the eleventh time in the past hour. Her anxiety had officially peaked. While it had been easier to ignore throughout the morning and afternoon, the more the sun crept across the sky and turned it from the usual greyish blue to a deep orange, the harder it became to pretend like her family wasn't due home at any moment.

Yes, the strange and occasionally frustrating hodgepodge of races and personalities that had collected there in Shattrath were her family.

She remembered how each of them had become a part of their home.

Riskkaf was the first. He had swaggered into her establishment one day many years ago for a bite to eat, and they chatted cordially about one topic or another. He came back the next day, and then the next, for no particular reason other than to visit her. The pattern kept up for many months until one day Mial realized that there was no getting rid of him and that his presence in her life was now permanent.

Zebodah had been the second and most abrupt. He had come before the influx of many of the other refugees and from a world that was not their own. Confused, hurt, and exhausted, the troll had collapsed just outside the entrance to the city after, or at least from what the guards at the time said, appearing out of thin air. No one had ever seen his kind before and they did not speak his language, or he theirs, so for a while Zebodah had been confined to what could be considered Shattrath's prison. It had taken many debates, and a lot of translation and effort on Riskkaf's part, before they finally decided to let the 'Darkspear' go. Through the arakkoa, he became acquainted with Mial and eventually a permanent member of their family with the arrival of Nadia.

And then came Binky, Barham, and Lachlan. The trio was from Hellfire Peninsula and had apparently ditched whatever posts they had held in a fortress called Honor Hold. They had decided to take a chance and follow the rumors of there being sanctuary beyond Hellfire. It had been an **extremely** risky move on their part: Shattrath was not in the habit of making itself known to the outside. And Honor Hold appeared to have a closed border policy, as well. Because of both, any such talk of refuge was almost myth…as well as treason.

If the Hold were not in a state of crisis and regular government proceedings went on as normal, the two dwarves and gnome would undeniably be branded as deserters, then likely hunted down and imprisoned, or even executed, for their crime.

However, the short and surprisingly jolly group didn't seem to have such thoughts plaguing their minds. Mial did not blame them. The situation and environment from which they had fled were anything but normal and were likely far worse than anything anyone at the time could have imagined they could possibly become. If the day ever came that the portal ever opened again, and she doubted it would, and the issue arose by chance, the priestess doubted any punishment would be severe. They would jump that hurdle if they ever came to it, and they would do it as the family they had become.

Next came Armaan and Kalrosh. Armaan, sweet and bashful Armaan, was a dear friend from long ago. They had been through much together, and she knew of his impending fancy for her. Unfortunately, because of her own duties and worries, Mial had not yet had the chance to ponder how she felt for the Vindicator. Kalrosh had been the most gradual and basic addition to their family. He had been in Shattrath for a while, though where the orc came from no one knew, and just slowly yet surely spent more and more time with the group.

She loved them all.

She loved them enough to know that Riskkaf would disappear for days at a time without actually leaving the city, enough to know that Kalrosh did not sleep well and would get nightmares. She knew how Binky's small hands would wring and shake some days for hours for no reason, how Lockie and Barmy would get so angry at nothing, and how Zebodah would begin to tremble if he went too long without a drink.

The priestess had come to care for her makeshift family more than she ever thought she would. In her way, the draenei loved them all. Differently, yes, but at the same time she loved the same and equally.

But there was one who Mial held above them all…

"Mom!"

The priestess' ears caught the cry that resonated throughout the evening air, yet didn't have enough time to register it as Nadia appeared out of nowhere and vaulted herself at the woman, hugging her tightly. Mial nearly fell over from the sudden jolt, though she managed to steady herself enough to stay upright.

"Nadia! Oh my –," her arms wrapped around the child and she let out a laugh that was somewhere between joy and relief, "where did you come from?"

As if to answer her question, Armaan suddenly rounded the corner of a neighboring house. His cheeks were flushed, not just from seeing Mial, but also due to him being out of breath. The young girl in her arms snickered at the sight, and the priestess took an easy guess as to what happened.

"Nadia…we told you…to wait…with us," the poor man huffed out as best he could, "until we finished…unloading!"

Mial chuckled in good humor, causing her fellow draenei's entire face to become red, "It's alright, Armaan, I have got her. Thank you, please go help the others with their tasks."

After a rather clumsy but rather heartfelt bow from the Vindicator, he trotted off to the apparently just returned party. When Armaan was out of sight, Nadia burst into a fit of giggles.

"He likes you," she stated in a singsong voice while looking up at her mother with one of her signature tusked smiles.

Oh, how Mial had missed this. The absence of Nadia's laughter and smiles the past few days had been more noticeable than anticipated. But now, they were back, and the woman intended to cherish each grin and giggle from her adopted daughter.

"Stop it, you! We have more important things to do than gossip about such silly things," the priestess smiled warmly and planted a series of kisses on the girl's head. "We shall go help the others, then make dinner, and you must tell me all about your adventure, yes?"

A cheer escaped Nadia's lips as she began following the trail Armaan had taken, pulling Mial by the hand behind her. She was already beginning a story about what she had seen and done on her trip with vivid, and a certain exaggeration that came with being a child, detail. Her mother listened to and took in each word from the person who had become such a joy to her.

There was not a single shadow of doubt in Mial's mind that Nadia held the most space in her heart. From the moment the girl had been found on her backdoor step no more than a few days old, the woman had cared for her. And after watching her grow and become the child she was today, that care had quickly turned to love.

It was Nadia really who had taught Mial that love could still exist in such a harsh world. She had lost much, so much, with the arrival of the Burning Legion. Yet somehow, after everything, she was blessed with a child she could practically call her own.

After 11 years, it was Nadia who gave Mial a reason to live and hope again. And though she did not realize her importance, it was Nadia who held their family together at its core. At the end of the day, whether they believed it or not, everyone had a place in their heart that was reserved only for her.

And at the end of the day, Nadia believed the same thing about each and every one of them and loved them as much as they loved her.

* * *

 _ **All done! Glad that's out of the way! This wasn't my favorite chapter to write, but I feel its placement and timing are necessary.**_

 _ **Please read my note from earlier if you didn't because it is important, but other than that I'll see you all soon!**_


	12. Chapter 12: Wine, Dine, & Dash

Disclaimer: I do not own anything WoW or Blizzard…but if I _did_ , imagine the possibilities!

 _ **What up, buttercups? Told you I'd try to update as much as humanly possible. Anyway, glad I managed to get this up before tooooo many days went by after the last update.**_

 _ **A big thank-you to**_ _ **Ihsann997**_ _ **,**_ _ **Bohmzawe**_ _ **, and**_ _ **becksie**_ _ **for the reviews, and to**_ _ **becksie**_ _ **for the follow! So glad that the previous chapter got such a positive reception, and I hope I can keep giving you all something to enjoy!**_

 _ **Last thing: remember to vote in the poll if you are interested and get the chance! I appreciate any and all participation.**_

 _ **Now, on to the story!**_

* * *

Chapter 12: Wine, Dine, & Dash

* * *

Zebodah swept into the cellar of Mial's home like a hurricane, swinging the door open so fast that it banged against the wall and caused a few neatly stacked jars on a shelf to tumble over. If he cared, he didn't show it, for just as the door went flying wide it was flung shut once more by the same person who had entered through it.

 _In an' out…in an' out_ , he thought as he took in another measured deep breath before letting it out just as slowly, _calm yaself_.

It worked….

For a moment…

He grasped the edges of the sole wooden table in the cellar with both hands as he tried to reign in his nerves. The more he fought, the tighter his grip became until the wood began to splinter and creak ominously underneath his knuckles. The troll lasted for only a few more seconds before he began to hyperventilate and tremors began to rack his body. With a grunt of irritation, Zebodah stopped fighting and strode over to one of the shelves on the wall opposite of the table.

The sound of glass bottles and clay jugs and other containers clinking against one another filled the air as the Darkspear recklessly rummaged through the various flasks of different wines and alcohol.

"C'mon, Mial. Where's da good stuff?" One bottle he had heedlessly cast aside tipped over and rolled off the shelf, hitting the floor but not shattering. Even if it had broken, the troll would not have noticed, for he was too obsessed with his current task. With one effective swoop of his hand, he slid an entire row of bottles to the side and reached as far back into the shelf as he could with the other hand.

"Aha!"

The troll stepped back and stopped fumbling through the bottles, which would have been a good thing, were there not a full bottle of well-aged wine in his right hand.

"Now we talkin'."

Zebodah didn't even turn around as his empty hand reached mechanically behind to retrieve a mug. It hit the table with a firm 'clunk' as he set it down and began to pull the cork off of the wine bottle. Once it was off, the Darkspear carelessly let it drop to the floor as he began to pour as much wine as he could into the cup. He was still shaking from withdrawal, so a good bit of the beverage was spilled onto the smooth wooden surface of the table; but again, he didn't notice in the slightest.

"Finally," he mumbled as he brought mug up to his lips, some of the wine sloshing over the brim and onto his fingers. However, the motion halted just before the brim touched them. Zebodah didn't know why he stopped himself, but stopped himself he had.

 _What are ya doin'?_ A voice in his head that he hadn't heard in ages suddenly spoke up. _Do ya really need ta do dis?_

What was he doing?

In the far reaches of his subconscious, the Darkspear knew that he was heading down a dark and dangerous path. Alcohol had become as fundamental to him as breathing. The more time passed in Shattrath, the less likely it became that he could go a day without drinking. He didn't really know who he was anymore without being drunk or tipsy.

It wasn't that Zebodah wanted to drink necessarily. It was more as though he felt like he **needed** to drink in order to simply get through the day.

And need was something very, _very_ hard to ignore.

Zebodah made the mistake of taking a deep breath right then, and the tangy scent of the wine made his resolve dissolve to almost nothing. He licked his dry lips as he tried to hold out for even a moment longer –

 _Oh please, mon. Ya know ya want to._

Another voice, one that had only just started speaking a few years back but was beginning to talk more and more, suddenly piped up.

 _After dealin' wit all da crap durin' ya trip, you deserve somethin tasty…somethin nice to forget about all dat just for a while. Dat's right, just a taste…_

Before he knew it, the Darkspear had jerked his head back and swallowed his entire drink in one gulp. The wine made his throat tingle as it went down and made him feel very warm inside the moment it hit his empty stomach. Zebodah sighed in defeat at his apparent lack of self control and began to pour himself another glass when –

"What are you doing down here?"

Oh. Gods.

When had Nadia come down into the basement?

She was staring up at him with big, hazel eyes from the opposite end of the table with an expression that was a cross between confusion and curiosity, and Zebodah immediately felt self-conscious. He still had enough decency left in his body to be ashamed for drinking alcohol in front of a kid. But, maybe if she hadn't been so damn quiet sneaking into the cellar he wouldn't have had the chance to drink anything…

His head began to buzz from the wine and caused him to relax a bit more, and the troll came to the conclusion that he honestly didn't care if Nadia saw him drinking or not.

"What **you** be doin' down here?" He retorted with a grunt as he plunked the mug back down onto the table.

The girl didn't even blink or miss a beat when she responded with, "This is my home, dummy; I live here."

Zebodah's eye twitched and he felt his temper begin to rise at the smart comeback. He pointed a clawed finger and opened his mouth to scold her when he was suddenly reminded of the fact that he had just recently made a deal with a loa to be good to Nadia. Considering that this was the same loa who would likely turn him into a small fish if he failed to follow through, and that they already weren't on the best of terms, the Darkspear grudgingly realized that if would be best if he began fulfilling his end of the bargain immediately.

Nadia's eyebrows rose high on her forehead when the short-tempered troll groaned loudly and began to pour himself another drink of wine. She had fully expected him to curse or yell or _something_ at her comment; but no, he kept his mouth shut for some reason.

There was nothing but silence between the two as she watched him refill the mug to the brim with wide, unblinking eyes. He treated this one the same as the last and swallowed it whole. Nadia noticed the way his eyes were beginning to look less focused and his movements more fluid and relaxed; she didn't like it.

"Are you going to drink all of it?" she asked hesitantly as he began to fix a third glass.

"Yes."

"Why are you using a cup, then? Why not just drink right out of the bottle?"

"Because I wanna preserve some of mah dignity," he took a small sip of his third drink and looked her right in the eye.

The expression on his face conveyed a sense of finality, and the kid seemed to pick up on it. They both stood there in silence for a few more seconds before the older troll broke it.

"What are ya doin' down here, Nadia? Dis ain't exactly da best place to be playin' about in or explorin'."

The child's gaze shifted from Zebodah to the various shelves and cupboards in the basement, "Mom sent me down to find some spices for dinner, but I don't know where they are."

Zebodah quirked up a brow, "Didn't ya ask?"

"I forgot," she shrugged innocently as her cheeks began to turn a bright shade of pink.

"Why ain't I surprised…" he took another quick sip from his drink before setting it back down atop the table. The troll had meant to whisper this to himself, but Nadia seemed to have overheard because she glared at him with a pout as her cheeks flushed even further. Zebodah realized his mistake immediately and mentally slapped himself.

 _I hope you like livin' as a beetle, mon, because if ya keep dis up Dambala gonna turn you into one in ya sleep!_ He looked away and awkwardly scratched the back of his head as he thought, _Dere ain't no way in hell Nadia gonna see ya like a fatha if you talk like dat. Fix dis!_

Nadia was still glaring at him when Zebodah drank one last mouthful of wine before turning around and walking over to the nearest shelf. Her glare turned to a look of shock when he began searching through the various jars and boxes.

"C'mon," he said while taking the lid off a jar and peeking inside, "I'll help ya look. Da faster we find 'em, da faster we can eat."

* * *

Mial had been setting the table for a late dinner when there was suddenly a knock on the front door. Since the others were still out back unpacking supplies and Nadia was still in the cellar, she was the only one who could answer it. As Mial took off the apron she had been wearing and made her way to the inn's parlor, she wondered who could possibly be stopping by at this hour; she wasn't expecting anyone. Perhaps the others had gotten locked out back again…

"How one manages to get locked out of their own home is beyond me," she muttered to herself while stopping to fluff one of the pillows on a couch. It was a quaint lobby that Mial had managed to put together over the years. It looked more like a living room complete with a hearth and a desk off to the side for checking in guests, but she was proud of it nonetheless. Her inn was nothing fancy, but it was hers, and that was all that mattered.

Once she had finished straightening up every piece of furniture or decor that was even the slightest bit out of place, Mial finally made her way over to the door and opened it. She had expected to see Lockie or Barmy, or even Kalrosh. But to her utter horror, it was someone that she held no love for.

"Hello, Mial. You look lovely this evening."

"What do you want?" She gripped the frame of the door tightly as she glared at the high-ranking Peacekeeper on the other side, "I told you to never come back here."

"No one tells me what to do," he sneered. "But I'm here on business, tonight. Unless, of course, you wish to take me up on my previous offer." The priestess did not respond and simply continued to glare at him. The Peacekeeper smirked at the woman haughtily, "Very well. Straight to the point; I have taken it upon myself to raise your rent again."

"What?" Mial's eyes went wide and her jaw slack, but the man wasn't done yet.

"You were already behind on your rent before, so I hope it doesn't come as a shock as to why I would expect you to pay any money you recently owed before this change. So let's see…your new rent is 50 gold every few months, plus the 15 you still owed me, as well as the 'damage' done for the new renovations that you did not ask my permissions for, and because I find the look of the place quite tacky brings your next payment to me to about… an equivalent of 80 gold."

Mial felt as though she might faint, "And where, exactly, am I supposed to get 80 gold to you by the end of next month? You know currency works differently here."

The draenei male flicked nonexistent dust off one of his shoulder pads, "Oh, I know how money works around here, Mial, believe me. Perhaps you do not have the means to pay me now, but there are always ways for people here to pay their debts to me."

Whatever faint feelings she had been experiencing only moments ago left her and she began to feel ill the second the Peacekeeper began stroking Mial's face with his rough hand and flashed her a disgusting smile.

"And there are many forms of payment I accept, my dear…just like old times - "

"Get out."

The strokes stopped instantly as the man's smile left his face. He huffed and retracted his hand before turning his back on the priestess, "Fine. I will oblige you this once. But remember; failure to oblige **me** will result in you and your little 'family' without a place to call home."

He left without another word. With shaking hands, Mial closed the door and locked it twice before collapsing into the nearest chair. She didn't stay there long however, and was back on her feet and headed to the cellar.

The woman knew what was being asked of her and what exactly she had to do. There was no way she could pull together 80 gold in such a short amount of time and all her other options were limited.

Except one…

By the time Mial reached the door to the cellar, tears were threatening to stream from her eyes, and she wiped away a few rebellious ones that had managed to make their way down her cheeks. She would not let her daughter see her cry if there was anything she could do about it.

"Alright, now ya gonna want ta add a bit more pressure."

"Like this?"

"Ya."

Mial could hear voices coming from the other side of the door to the cellar, and from what she could hear she honestly thought that her mind was playing tricks on her. Unable to control her curiosity, the woman opened the basement door wide and was rather shocked by what was on the other side.

Zebodah was standing opposite of Nadia at the table as he instructed her on how to properly grind up herbs and spices. Various plants and nuts were strewn across the table in neat, orderly little piles as the child stood before the mortar bowl with the pestle gripped tightly in her hands. A thin film of sweat covered her forehead as she did her best to grind herbs for the first time. The sounds of stone grinding stopped and the deep concentration she had broke when Mial entered the room.

"Mom, look! Zebodah showed me how to make spices," she held the small bowl out proudly for Mial to see.

The herbs inside weren't ground down nearly enough as they should have been, but the priestess couldn't help but smile at the effort. For a moment, she forgot about what she was about to do, "Very good, Nadia. You're doing very well; make sure to thank Zebodah."

Nadia babbled out a quick and barely understood 'thank you' before going back to grinding the herbs, and the grating sound of stone against stone filled the air once more. The troll simply nodded in response before glancing at Mial. The inquisitive look on his face reminded her of the news she was about to drop on her child.

"Nadia, sweetheart," she began with a slight crack in her voice, "I'm…not going to be able to stay for dinner."

The grinding sound came to an abrupt halt as Nadia stared at her in disappointed shock; even Zebodah looked surprised.

"But…why?"

Mial had never lied to her daughter before, so what she was about to do was unbelievably hard.

"I, ah, must run an errand…to get some things for the inn…I might not be back until tomorrow-"

The pestle fell out of Nadia's hands, "What? Why?"

"Nadia-"

"Are we just supposed to eat without you?"

"Well, um-"

"And what about breakfast? We always have breakfast together! It's tradition!"

"Nadia, please-"

"Whenever something amazing happens to one of us we always have breakfast together. It's what we do! It's-"

"Enough!" Mial clapped her hands together, "Listen to me. I must leave soon, but I will see you sometime tomorrow, and we can have our breakfast another day! End of discussion."

There was a horrible, awkward silence after her sudden outburst. Nadia stared at the priestess, face blank and long ears drooping. Mial instantly felt terrible.

"Okay," her daughter responded in a voice that was so low that both Mial and Zebodah barely heard it. Without another word, she swept past her mother and out the cellar without so much as closing the door behind her.

The priestess and troll made a point of not looking at one another. Mial stared at her hands, while Zebodah stared off into the farthest corner of the room. It was very obvious that he was uncomfortable with the situation by the way his long fingers drummed against the table and scratched at the wood. He honestly had no idea what to do about what had just occurred.

"Do ya, uh, wanna talk about it?" The words sounded strange coming out of his mouth, as if he had never voiced a question like it before…which he hadn't. But it was a start at least, if he wanted to get his life successfully straightened out.

"No…thank you."

Zebodah couldn't tell if Mial were about to scream, cry, or be sick. The look on her face implied that all three were a possibility, but, by the grace of the Loa, she did neither. She just kept standing there, wringing her hands and biting her lip, which wasn't exactly the reaction he wanted. So, he tried again.

"I suppose…I mean if ya want, dat is…dat I could stay over and mebbeh spend da day wit the girly – I mean Nadia – until ya get back."

The draenei did not respond for the longest time. After what was at least a full 15 minutes complete with more hand wringing, she finally looked him in the eye and nodded once before rigidly turning around and leaving. The Darkspear suddenly found himself alone in the cellar and glanced instinctively back at his forgotten cup of wine on the table. He picked it back up and stared at it for a moment before suddenly raising it high in the air.

"A toast," he murmured, "to mahself and ta what has been da strangest week of my life so far. And may dese last few days not disappoint."

And then Zebodah downed the drink before pouring himself a fourth, and then a fifth, and then a sixth…

And the night went on….

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 _ **Thanks to everyone for being so patient as I finished this up, this chapter was larger than I anticipated (oops)! I'll try to get the next chapter up before February or at least by the first few days in. Remember to vote or ask for links to art! Thanks again!**_


	13. Chapter 13: All Day Long

_Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft or Blizzard or anything else that's cool, though I'm working on that._

 _Hello, everybody! I sincerely hope that you all are doing well. Glad I was able to get this next chapter up finally. I'll keep this note as short as possible so that we can go ahead and start the story._

 _First off, yes, I'm terrible for keeping you all waiting for so long. But guess what: I'M ON VACATION! My exams are done and I can sit back and relax for a bit before dedication all my well earned time to my stories and other hobbies! So, expect lots of updates._

 _There are only going to be two more chapters left in this story, making a total of 15 chapters, before moving on to Book Two. If you wish to read that one, please either follow this story as I will post an announcement here once Book Two is up, or select the "Follow Author" option at the bottom of the page and you'll get updates from me for Book Two and on. If you do not have an account, just check often for the story posting on the Warcraft homepage or my author profile._

 _I will warn you now; Book Two will be pretty big. My personal goal is at least 25 chapters, and that will be the set minimum for all following books. The reason this one is so short is because I wanted it to serve more as a prologue. The chapters are also going to be much larger, with a minimum 4,000 words each. Soooooo, I've definitely got big goals and a lot to do!_

 _ **The poll I had up is now closed, thanks to those who voted, and I proud to say that I have happily started and completed 5 chapters so far in the** **Something Borrowed, Something Blue** **! Some hints for the plot: Khadgar's meddling, different universe Nadia, Warchief, diplomatic marriage, politics, steamy smut and fluffy fluff. Check it out in my profile when you get the chance!**_

 _Now that the PSA is done, a big thanks to , Bohmzawe, and Ihsan997 for reviewing, I really appreciate the feedback! Also a big thanks to Tenkosama and R. Moonstalker for following! If I missed anyone, sorry, it's been a while!_

 _Hope you all enjoy this chapter!_

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Chapter 13: All Day Long

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Zebodah had never been a morning person, and it was just his luck that the unholy rays of the sun decided to burnish through the window and glare right in his face. He had no idea why the sun shone so brightly today, or why his body had decided to regain consciousness so early. Usually, the sky was so ridiculously overcast that it was impossible to even see the sun most days.

He reached down towards his legs for the blanket that must have slid down during the night in order to pull it up over his face, only to find that there wasn't one at all. It was then, he realized, that he was not lying on his sleeping mat either, but something much softer. It was also a lot quieter outside than his rather rambunctious area of the city. And, there was the lingering smell of freshly baked bread and something sweet.

His house did not smell like freshly baked bread or anything sweet.

This was not his house.

The troll sat up so quickly that one of Mial's throw pillows that had been sitting on his chest was catapulted to the other end of the couch. For a moment, he sat there with a foggy, numb mind while trying to remember where he was and how he had gotten there. Immediately following that moment, his head began throbbing so hard it felt like his skull was going to split in half.

"Ugh," he groaned while rubbing his face with his hands. He adjusted himself to get up, but only got as far as putting his feet on the ground before his head started to hurt again. He pinched the bridge of his nose and rested his elbows on his knees, "what happened?"

There was no answer of course; the entire parlor was empty save for him. There was no Nadia…or Mial, for that matter. At the internal mention of both of them, the events of the previous night slowly started to come back to him.

Nadia left the cellar after Mial had snapped at her and did not return. After the priestess had gone upstairs to try and make amends, it was revealed that Nadia had locked herself in her room and refused to speak to anyone or let them in. No one entered or exited the room for the rest of the night, and Zebodah assumed that she had fallen asleep after a while.

Mial, still upset over what had happened, departed shortly after it became apparent that she wouldn't have the opportunity to apologize to Nadia that night. Where she had disappeared to, he had no idea, but _what_ she had disappeared to do was obvious. The expression on her face had been so full of despair that it was clear what was about to happen, even if she didn't want to leave.

But leave she did, and shortly after the others went home as well when the tension that was left in the home became apparent. Eventually, he was the only person that remained in the house save for Nadia. Something shiny and blue caught his eye, and he glanced to his side to find two bottles, now emptied of their content, laying on the couch beside him. He must have settled there on the couch and –

A door upstairs slammed shut. Zebodah hissed and clutched his already aching head with both hands. The sound of feet pounding down the stairs invaded his mind...as well as what sounded like someone tripping, missing a step, and a girlish yelp.

 _Speak o' the devil, an' she shall appear,_ the Darkspear thought as he quickly shoved the two wine bottles beside him under one of the couch cushions. He didn't want anyone, especially not Nadia, to see evidence of his...problem. The moment the last bottle disappeared underneath a cushion, the child herself came to a sliding halt in front of him.

She looked ridiculous. Her hair was everywhere, more so than usual and sticking out in all sorts of comical angles. An oversized, rumpled shirt and shorts were all that she wore, and there were things on her feet. What were they called? Lockie had told him what they were before...oh, right, socks. They didn't match, however, and he was pretty sure they were supposed to.

Zebodah noticed that he seemed to be caring more about Nadia's appearance than she did, as she stood in front of him with wide eyes and trying to catch her breath. The girl blinked a few times before looking around as if searching for something. He opened his mouth to speak, but before any words could come out she was off again and running towards the kitchen. She went through the door leading to it and came back out again a few seconds later.

"Where's mom?"

It took the troll a moment before he realised that she was talking to him. Nadia continued to stare at him as he tried to figure out the best thing to say. _He_ had a good idea as to where Mial had gone, but highly doubted that the kid knew anything about that gross little detail. And it was probably in everyone's best interest if it remained that way…

"She went out," he said while turning to lie horizontally on the couch.

Nadia's eyebrows furrowed, "Out?"

"Ya."

"Out where?"

He rolled his eyes at the girl who was still staring at him with her large hazel ones, "She'll be back later."

"Oh...Why are you here?"

"I'm here ta keep an eye on ya."

" _You_?"

He returned her stare with his own withering glare, "Yes, _me_."

Nadia nodded and settled into a nearby chair, never taking her eyes off him even once, "Why you?"

"I don't know, girly," he sighed while resting his head back on the armrest of the couch, completely intent on sleeping off his hangover, "I was da only one around when she needed someone."

There was no response after that so the troll assumed her curiosity had been abated and she would go off to do whatever it was Nadia did in her spare time. He closed his eyes and relaxed, ready to nod off at any moment, and waited for the child to leave. She didn't; he never heard her feet touch the ground, or her walk off, and he could _definitely_ feel her still staring at him. The Darkspear cracked one eye open and found Nadia still looking at him as if he were some rare creature.

"What?" he ground out through clenched teeth, a bit more irritated now than before.

She glanced down sheepishly at her toes, "I'm hungry."

"You want me ta make ya breakfast or somethin'?" he asked hesitantly. Zebodah didn't really know how to go about doing this as taking care of a kid was, well, kind of new for him. You were supposed to feed them and keep them clean and healthy, he knew that much. The shaman briefly wondered if this was what having a pet would be like but immediately banished the thought. The loa probably wouldn't appreciate the comparison…

"No, that's okay, I can cook." She hopped down from her chair and shuffled off towards the kitchen. There was a nagging feeling in the back of Zebodah's head that he should probably supervise her. While he didn't want to get up; like, _really_ didn't want to get up, Mial probably wouldn't appreciate it if she came home to a ruined kitchen after going through what he knew she was doing.

"Wait," he sighed and slowly sat up. Nadia turned around and watched with a look of awe as he stood and stretched to his full height. He rolled his shoulders and let his bones pop before slouching back down to his normal posture and trailing after his new ward, "I know ya, girly, and under no circumstances should anyone leave ya alone wit sharp tings and fire. Let me help ya."

Nadia was a lot more competent than Zebodah had ever given her credit for.

She knew how to start a fire in the oven, crack eggs without dropping them or getting any bits of shell in the bowl, and could then fry them up without any hassle at all.

He watched her prod the white and yellow fillets in the pan, occasionally sprinkling on spices or adding more butter. It smelled amazing, and she had made enough for him too, even though he hadn't asked for any. Which made him feel bad, since he hadn't thought her capable of cooking so well, probably because he'd never really thought highly of her ever in the first place. That would be the first thing he'd improve if he were to care for her: simply thinking better of her.

"Are ya sure Mial be okay wit you usin' her eggs an' butter?" Zebodah questioned as Nadia placed a plate in front of him with eggs and a slice of bread on it.

He was asking because the first and last time he had tried to add butter to his toast without the priestess' permission, she'd practically bitten his head off. The troll had been a bit sour about it at the time but understood why she had gotten so upset now. Eggs and butter were considered luxuries in Shattrath, with butter being hard to get one's hands on since the materials to make it were rare and eggs not available to everyone since there weren't exactly that many chickens around, leaving people to take chance on stealing them from the spiders and reptiles in the forest.

"I don't know," she said while shoving a large piece of the food into her mouth with her hands, "but mom's not here to say no, so…"

Zebodah simply nodded in response. It seemed like there was something else Nadia wanted to say, but there was no way he was going the extra mile, not on his first day, "So, uh, what you gonna do afta dis?"

"I don't know. What are you gonna do?"

The troll shrugged and finished the last of his drink in one gulp, "I ain't got any plans, girly. My only job be watchin' you today."

"Oh...What do you normally do?"

"Ah, well...I usually be asleep still. But when I do get up, usually I head to da tavern o' da bazaar."

"Why?"

"Either ta get a drink o' find work. Ain't much else to do around here, fen'di."

"What does fen'di mean?" Nadia questioned while shoving the last of her eggs into her mouth.

"Ya just be full of questions today, aren't ya?" the Darkspear muttered while tracing the rim of his cup with his finger, "It means 'little girl' in Zandali."

"What's Zandali?"

He stared at the girl as though he hair had just turned a different color, "What be Zand - You don' know what Zandali is? Can't ya speak it?"

She shook her head and Zebodah felt kind of ridiculous for asking the question to begin with. Of course she couldn't speak it, there was no one to teach her. Vana'jia had died when Nadia was an infant, while he had been...distracted.

"Zandali be da language of trolls," he began slowly, "each people got dere way o' speaking, and dis one is ours. Even if ya be from a different tribe, if ju speak Zandali ya can still communicate. It's an old language, but we start learnin' it da moment we can talk."

"Oh," Nadia looked away from him and began staring out the window instead. Her expression had become far away, "Could my mom talk in it?"

"Ya, even though she was only half-troll. She could sing in it too."

"She could sing? Was she good?"

"One of da best," he ran his fingers through his hair and smiled as he remembered Vana'jia's voice, "She used ta sing fo' people before comin' out here. Dance, too. People loved 'er."

"Even though she was half-troll?"

Zebodah paused; Nadia was watching him carefully as he did so, waiting for an answer. The way she was looking at him made him just a little bit uncomfortable. The troll supposed he deserved it though, as the wounds from the incident several months ago must still be fresh for her. He would know, they were still fresh for him too.

The girl in front of him began to lick her fingers, savoring the last of the butter from her meal, "She was half-troll, right?"

"Uh, well, ya," he stumbled over his words while avoiding Nadia's gaze. "Van nevah knew her parents, who dey were o' where dey came from, though I got my suspicions. She used da skills she had to make a livin'. Dere be some who did'na like her at first, but dey all fell hard for dat voice o' hers in da end."

"She was that good?" the child questioned, her eyes wide with awe. The expression of contempt had gradually disappeared from her face while Zebodah told his tale, as she forgot about her hurt feelings and became enraptured with the enriching tale of her mother. Her face reminded him of that of a cat when it zoned in on something shiny, and his mouth twitched into a grin at the mental description.

He toyed with the end of his long braid, "Bettah believe it. She was the best courtesan in all o' Booty Bay before comin' here."

"Cool...Zebodah, what's a courtesan?"

 _Oops._ "I'll, uh, tell ya when ya get older."

"Okay," she replied, seemingly satisfied with the information she'd already gotten. The older troll saw this as his widow of opportunity to leave and get on with his day. He moved to get up and go, but Nadia wasn't finished after all. "What else?" she asked, as though he knew everything there was to know about Van.

"Whatcha mean 'what else'?"

"C'mon, there's gotta be more!"

"Dat's enough for now, I got tings ta do -"

"Liar!" the girl blurted out, her lips pressing into an impressive pout, "You said earlier you don't have anything to do today!"

"Well...dat was then and now be now!" he challenged with a scowl, "Dere be errands dat need takin' care of, so I gotta leave."

"Well, then…" her eyes darted around the room, and the Shaman could tell Nadia was trying to think of a comeback. They lit up suddenly, and she stretched forward to point an accusatory finger right in his face, "You still have to watch me! So wherever you go, I'll be right behind you, since you can't leave me by myself. And, I'll keep asking questions until you finally say something!"

He blinked a few times at the tiny finger between his eyes, caught off guard, before scowling again. Zebodah growled and snapped his teeth at her hand. The child yelped and drew back immediately, but she seemed to find this funny because she started giggling.

 _Touché, kid. Touché_ , he thought while grumpily twisting one of his braids around his finger and watching her laugh. She was right though; Zebodah was officially stuck with Nadia for the rest of the day. He rolled his eyes and sighed, "Fine...you can come."

"Really!?" Nadia smiled and leaned so far across the table in anticipation that Zebodah was worried she might fall out of her chair.

"Sure," he replied nonchalantly while picking his teeth, "ya can help me carry stuff."

She cheered so loudly all of a sudden that it made him jump a little, but she was off and running to get dressed before he could tell her to keep it down. "Wear good shoes!" he yelled after her.

She yelled something back at him. It could have been 'okay!', it could have been 'champagne!': he couldn't tell.

Zebodah shook his head in exasperation but couldn't suppress the chuckle that bubbled up in his chest. He sighed and pulled a flask out from his pocket, taking a quick swig. He would have to refill it soon; it was almost empty. And he would need all the alcohol he could drink.

It was going to be a _very_ long day…

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 _ **Thanks so much for your patience! Hope you enjoyed it, even though I have to do most of my writing on my phone. I don't have easy access to a computer, so no gaurantee for any updates, but I'll try my best!**_

 _ **Until next time!**_

 _ **MadMadameEm**_


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